f 


p  -;vv 


fe  K 

V  A 


is? 


A 


HEADS 


v*  C 


FRENCH’S  STANDARD  DRAMA, 


No.  LXII. 


...  .  ... 

OLD  HEADS  &  YOUNG  HEARTS 


21  €omci>j) 


'IN  FIVE  ACTS- 


BY  DION  BO  U  R  C  I  C  AU  L%T. 


WITH  THE  STAGE  BUSINESS,  CAST  OF  CHARACTERS, 
COSTUMES,  RELATIVE  POSITIONS,  ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 

FRENCH,  PUBLISHER 

122  Nassau  Street,  (Up  Stairs.) 


S  A  M UEL 


CHARACTERS. 


CAST  OF 

Hay  market  ,1844.  Walnut  st.^  Phil.  ^  1847.  Br  oadtc  ay,  1848. 


Karl  oj  Vompion i .. 

Mr.  Tilbury 

Mr.  A’Becket 

Mr.  D.  C.  AndcrsoB 

Lord  Roebuck . . 

“  H.  Holl 

“  Smith 

44  Dawson 

.  Colonel  Rocket ,.... 

“  Strickland 

44  Spear 

44  Vach6 

Littleton  Coke  *. ... 

“  C.  Mathews 

“  Wheatly 

44  Lester 

Tom  Coke+ . 

“  Webster 

44  Richings 

44  Fleming 

Jesse  Rural. ...... 

44  W.  Farren 

44  R.  Blake 

44  R.  Blake 

Bob  «* . 

44  Buckstone 

44  Chapman 

44  lladaway 

Stripe  jm . 

“  T.  F.  Mathews 

44  Eberle  % 

44  G.  Chapman 

Russell . 

44  Carle 

44  Huckurt 

44  Gallot 

Countess  of  Pompion 

Mrs.  W.  Clifford 

Mr*.  Blake 

Mrs.  Winstanley 

^ Lady  Alice.. . 

Madame  Vestris 

Miss  S.  Cushman 

Miss  Wallack 

Miss  Rocket . 

• 

Miss  Julia  Bennett 

Mrs.  Rogers 

Mrs.  Sergeant 

COSTUMES. 

The  Costumes  are  those  of  the  present  day . 


EXITS  AND  ENTRANCES. 

R.  means  Right ;  L.  Left;  R.  D.  Right  Door ;  L.  D.  Left  Door , 
S.  E.  Second  Entrance;  U.  E.  Upper  Entrance;  M.  D.  Middle  Door 

RELATIVE  POSITIONS. 

R.,  means  Right;  L.,  Left;  C.,  Centre;  R.  C.,  Right  of  Centrei 
L.  C.,  Left  of  Centre, 


Passages  marked  t cilh  Inverted  Commas  are  usuculy  emitted  in  the 

Representation . 


\v. 


\ 

Po 

r* 

) 


»  % 

S 

c4 

or 


v 

O 


EDITORIAL  INTRODUCTION. 

Borcicault  maybe  considered  to  be  the  originator  c  f  what  has 
been  very  aptly  designated  as  the  44  Upholstery  School  of  Comedy,” 
in  which  the  decorations  and  novel  effects  derivable  from  the  appoint¬ 
ments  and  accessories,  which  modem  improvement  has  introduced  on 
the  stage,  form  the  prominent  features  of  the  piece.  That  the 
comedies  of  this  author  owe  much  of  their  success  to  these  novel  in¬ 
troductions,  cannot  be  denied,  but  Borcicault  also  possesses  the 
talent  of  infusing  into  his  compositions  a  sparkling  vivacity  of  dia¬ 
logue,  a  neatness  in  the  construction  of  his  plot,  a  knowledge  of  cha 
racter,  drawn  from  a  close  observance  of  the  follies  and  vices  of  our 
period,  and  a  happy  skill  in  the  management  of  his  incidents  and 
situations ;  and  by  these  united  qualifications,  he  has  succeeded  in 
producing  two  or  three  comedies,  that  never  fail  to  amuse  and  attrac 
audiences,  aided  as  they  are  by  the  adornments  of  costly  stage  appoint 
uents. 

The  chief  defect,  consider,  in  all  Bor^icault’s  productions,  is  th* 
ltter  heartlessness  that  pervade  his  pictures  of  modern  manners.  His 
epigrammatic  wit,  and  his  polished  keenness  of  satire,  seem  to  revel 
m  representing  the  most  selfish  characteristics  of  modern  fashionable 
society. .  The  exclusiveness  of  this  society,  perhaps,  exposes  it  to  the 
censure  of  the  satirist ;  and  the  Dramatic  writer,  whose  province  it  ia 
to  44  shoot  folly  as  it  flies,”  may  be  pardoned  if  he  faithfully  represents 
the  classes,  from  which  he  draws  the  originals  of  his  fictitious  crea¬ 
tions.  He  may  draw  from  these  equivocal  fountains  large  draughts  of 
wit  and  humour,  and  he  may  excite  the  risibilities  of  his  audiences, 
with  displays  of  his  peculiar  genius :  but  we  humbly  conceive  that 
the  brightest  flaslios  of  his  wit,  will  be  wanting  in  that  other  essential 
element  of  true  Dramatic  wit — Poetry,  while  the  moral  influence  of 
such  exhibitions  of  real  life,  in  a  Dramatic  form,  is  deleterious  in  ite 
effects  on  an  audience.  We  are  not  so  visionary  in  our  theories  as  to 
look  to  the  stage  for  any  high  code  of  morals,  although  we  believe 
such  might  be  its  legitimate  province ;  yet  we  contend  that  the  stage 
is  a  school  where  a  pure  and  correct  taste  maybe  cultivated;  aud 


IV 


EM  TO  RIAL  INTRODUCT1  )N. 

we  hold  it  to  be  a  perversion  of  good  taste,  to  present  li/e  as  being 
one  unbroken  link  of  heartless  frivolity  and  polished  insincerity,  as 
Bor^icault  delights  in  picturing  it.  Nor  can  we  admit  he  fidelity  of 
his  portraits  of  character,  amusing  as  we  confess  tl  ey  are  in  the 
representation.  They  seem  rather  to  owe  their  existence  to  the  ex 
aggerated  delineations  with  which  modern  fiction  abounds ;  the  cha¬ 
racters  are,  in  fact,  copies  from  fashionable  novels,  and  not  transcripts 
from  nature.  The  stage  has  lost  its  original  influence  over  the  intel¬ 
lectual  and  the  fashionable  classes,  so  that  its  power  for  good  or  evil 
has  become  nearly  extinct.  The  mass  cf  play-goers  view  the  enter¬ 
tainment  derivable  from  the  theatre  as  a  mere  amusement,  a  relaxa¬ 
tion  from  daily  toil,  and  prescribed  duty  ;  and  the  author  that  can 
most  effectually  interest,  amuse,  or  excite  an  audience  for  the  pass¬ 
ing  hour,  becomes  the  popular  idol  of  the  day.  We  have  no  desire 
to  impeach  the  taste  of  the  public,  but  we  do  object  to  men  of  genius 
fostering  the  frivolous  spirit  of  the  age,  and,  what  is  more  reprehen¬ 
sible,  disseminating  through  the  powerful  instrumentality  of  the 
Drama,  a  false  code  of  morals,  calculated  to  undermine  all  the  social 

t 

virtues  of  life. 

We  look  upon  “  Old  Heads  and  Young  Hearts”  to  be  the  most  open 
J-o  censure,  of  any  of  Boi^icault’s  productions.  The  leading  charac¬ 
ters  are  nearly  all  of  them  high  drawn  satires  on  humanity.  Littleton 
Coke  is  a  mere  blcisi  man  of  fashion,  a  spendthrift,  a  sneerer, 
and  a  scoffer ;  even  his  love  for  Lady  Alice  Haivthome  is  but  a  com¬ 
pound  of  selfishness  and  cupidity ;  and  her  witty  ladyship  is  but  a 
slight  remove  from  a  heartless  and  frivolous  coquette. 

The  British  Peerage,  we  trust,  could  never  have  furnished  the  pro¬ 
totypes  of  Lord  and  Lady  Pompion ;  and  Col.  Rocket  is  too  ignorant 
and  too  coarse  to  be  considered  as  even  slightly  to  resemble  any 
officer  of  rank,  that  was  ever  gazetted  in  the  army  list.  Lord  Roebuck 
is  an  inanity,  save  in  his  disregard  of  filial  duty ;  on  this  point  he 
bears  the  infallible  brand  of  the  author.  Miss  Rocket  is  a  fitting 
counterpart  of  her  lover,  and  Bob  is  the  stereotyped  lying,  impudent 
valet  of  the  stage,  with  all  the  heartlessness  and  selfishness  of  his 
master,  which  he  wears  as  he  does  the  second-hand  clothes  that  be¬ 
come  his  perquisites.  Apart  from  this  group  stand  out  Tom  Cokt 
and  Jesse  Rural ;  they  are  intrusted  with  the  sentiment  of  the  comedy, 
or,  rather,  they  are  the  author’s  exponents  of  the  morality  of  the 
piece.  Tom  is  made  a  sort  of  untutored  country  boor,  is  crossed  in 
his  affections,  and  jeered  at  by  his  fashionable  spendthrift  of  a  brother; 
and  Rural  is  a  simple-hearted  aged  clergyman,  on  whom  all  the  plots 


EDIT  O  III  A  L  INTRODUCTION. 


V 


Mid  counterplots  of  the  comedy  is  made  to  revolve;  ho  is  l  iited  and 
ridiculed  through  five  acts  for  the  amusement  of  the  audience,  and  ij 
at  last  driven  almost  to  madness,  to  heighten  the  effect  of  the  final 
climax. 

Such  a  clergyman  as  Jesse  Rural  is  depicted,  should  never  have 
been  selected  for  exhibition  on  the  stage,  under  the  degrading  cir 
cumstances  Bor^cault  has  thought  fit  to  introduce  him. 

But  with  all  these  exceptionable  points  in  this  comedy,  it  is  popular  as 
an  acting  play.  The  language  is  sprightly,  witty,  and  pointed,  the  inci 
dents  are  highly  dramatic,  and  the  constant  succession  of  equivoquie, 
keep  interest  alive  from  the  rising  to  the  falling  of  the  curtain. 

“  Old  Heads  and  Young  Hearts”  has  been  peculiarly  successful  in 
this  country,  chiefly  from  the  admirable  personation  of  Jesse  Rural  by 
Mr.  W.  R.  Blake,  the  present  manager  of  the  Broadway  Theatre. 
This  gentleman  had  acquired  a  wide-spread  celebrity  in  Philadelphia 
and  Baltimore,  for  his  inimitable  performance  of  the  part ;  and  on  his 
assuming  the  stage  management  of  the  Broadway,  the  comedy  was 
revived  with  every  attention  to  its  details,  and  had  a'continuous  run 
of  sixteen  nights,  to  crowded  and  delighted  audiences. 

Mr.  Blake’s  embodiment  of  Jesse  Rural ,  may  be  classed  among  the 
finest  histrionic  efforts  now  extant  upon  the  stage.  It  is,  indeed,  one 
of  those  truthful  pieces  of  acting,  in  which  the  artist  is  almost  identi  ¬ 
fied  with  the  character  he  represents.  We  cannot  corceive  anything 
more  tme  to  nature,  both  in  appearance  and  acting,  than  is  the  per 
sonation  of  this  character  in  the  hands  of  Mr.  Blake.  H 


« 


OLD  HEADS  AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


ACT  I . 

Scene  I. —  The  Temple.  The  Interior  of  Littleton  Coke's 
Chambers ,  meagrely  furnished.  Coke  is  discovered  at 
breakfast ,  reading  the  paper.  Bob,  cleaning  a  Meer¬ 
schaum,  it. 

Lit.  [Reads.}  Express  from  China — um — urn — police 
— um — fashionable  arrivals.  Ha  ! — at  Mivart’s,  Lord 
Charles  Roebuck,  from  Paris — mv  schoolfellow  and  cob 
lege  chum — perhaps  he  has  written  to  me — Bob  ! 

Bob.  Sir. 

Lit.  Any  papers  for  me  this  morning  ? 

Bob.  Yes,  sir;  one  for  the  income  tax. 

Lit.  Do  we  pay  that,  Bob? 

Boh.  No,  sir,  I  wish  we  did. 

Lit.  (i..)  \  Rising,  and  coming  forward.]  How  comes  it, 
that  during  five  years’  hard  labour  at  the  bar,  I  never  have 
had  any  thine  to  do  ? 

Bob.  Yes,  sir;  law  is  quite  as  unprofitable  to  us  now, 
as  it  would  be  to  our  clients,  if  we  had  any. 

Lit.  Have  I  not  angled  daily  in  Westminster  Flail? 

Bob.  While  I  carried  after  you  a  red  bag,  fat  with  you 
unpaid  bills,  like  a  landing  net. 

Lit.  Without  a  nibble. — [ Half  apart.]  I  could  almc  x 
repent  that  nature  had  not  left  me  in  the  insignificance  of 
my  birth.  What  right  had  the  son  of  a  hard-working 
Yorkshire  coal-owner  to  flaunt  it  at  Eton  and  Oxford, 
and  all  because  my  mother,  before  my  birth,  dreamed  of 
a  woolsack,  and  so  would  call  me  Littleton — and  yet. 
while  my  suppers  and  stables  were  declared  unique — 
when  tufted  lordlings  exchanged  Christian  names  with 
me — I  though1- — ha! — I  see  my  error — mistook  my  mo- 


8 


OLD  HEA  j IS 


[Ac  r 


ney  for  myself- — why  was  I  given  so  keen  a  sense  for  en¬ 
joyment,  and  so  limited  a  power  of  gratifying  it  ] 

Bob.  But  your  father,  at  his  death,  sir,  left  you  700Z. 
a-year. 

Bit.  To  support  7000  appetites  he  bequeathed  me  at 
my  birth ;  so,  unfortunately,  through  life  my  wants  have 
ever  exceeded  my  means. 

Bob.  Ah,  sir,  but  wants  are  the  servants  of  genius. 

Lit.  Say  its  masters,  rather. 

Bob.  Your  brother  in  Yorkshire  is  rich. 

* 

Lit.  Thanks  to  my  extravagance  that  made  him  so;  I 
have  mortgaged  every  acre  of  mv  land  to  him. 

Bob..  If  you  were  to  write  to  him,  sir. 

Lit.  I  have  done  so;  Postman' s  knock ,  l.]  there’s  the 
tnswer.  [Exit,  Bob,  l.]  It  was  my  last  resource. 

Re-enter  Bob,  l. 

Bob.  [  Weighing  the  letter.}  It  feels  promising,  sir. 

Lit .  [  Opens  and  reads.}  “  Dear  brother  Littleton — Your 
favour  of  the  21  st  ultimo  has  duly  come  to  hand — am  most 
happy  to  find  you  have  not  forgot  Sykes  Hall ,  and  those  in 
it.  Tabby  sends  her  love ,  and  the  Rev.  Mr.  Rural  his 
blessing — the  collieries  rein  fairly — corn  is  at  50  s.  and  mut¬ 
ton  is  looking  up  ;  and  I  am  your  affectionate  brother , 

“  Thomas  Coke.” 

Bob.  Lord,  sir  ! 

Lit.  “  Postscript. — As  to  your  debts,  I  can  neither  afford 
to  gtve  champagne  suppers  to  your  friends,  nor  pay  for  the 
spavined  horses  they  have  to  sell  you  ;  had  you  moderated 
your  vanity  in  the.  entertainment  of  a  pack  of  spunging 
spendthrifts,  you  had  not  now  to  stoop  your  pride  to  a  set 
of  honest  tradesmen .”  [Tears  up  the  letter.}  I  deserved  it: 
let  him  keep  his  gold. 

Bob.  They  say  he  is  generous  enough  on  occasion. 

Lit.  Oh,  yes!  [Bitterly]  Builds  charity  schools  and 
endows  lying-in  hospitals,  while  his  own  flesh  and  blood 
may  rot  in  a  jail  !  Curse  his  generosity  !  his  is  all  news¬ 
paper  charity  and  mouth  virtue.  Yes,  1  will  apply  to  my 
friend  :  Bob,  did  you  take  that  note  to  Lord  St.  James  1 

Bob.  Yes,  sir;  I  found  him  at  Mr.  Deuceace’s. 

Lit.  [  Half  apart.]  It  was  but  for  20Z.  Well,  where  is 
his  answer] 


SCEJ5E  l.j 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


9 


Bob.  He  sent  down  his  compliments,  that  he  was  goi  e 
to  Florence. 

hit.  The  paltiy — here’s  a  fellow,  now,  who  used  to 
swallow  my  dinners  and  jokes  in  sunny  times,  to  take 
away  at  the  first  post. 

Bob.  Yes,  sir,  swallows  always  were  summer  birds. 

Lit.  No  impertinence  !  [A  double  knock ,  L. 

Bob.  [ChopJ 'alien. ]  Are  you  at  home,  sir? 

Lit.  Yes.  [Exit  Bob ,  l.J  Home  !  mine  is  a  sarcasm  on 
the  word. 

Re-enter  Bob,  l. 

Bob.  Lord  Charles  Roebuck,  sir.  [Bob  retires  up,  l. 

Enter  Lord  Charles  Roebuck,  l.  and  crosses  to  c. 

Lit.  Charles,  my  dear  fellow.  [Shaking  his  hand . 

Roe.  The  same  as  ever — I  can  almost  believe  myself 
at  college  again — and  Bob,  too — 

Bob.  Yes,  my  lord,  promoted  from  gyp  to  lawyer’s 
clerk. 

Roe.  It  seems  but  a  month  ago  since  I  roasted  you  for 
courting  my  bed-maker — do  you  remember? 

Bob.  Remember  !  your  lordship  tied  me  along  a  form 
before  the  fire,  went  one,  and  forgot  me. 

Roe.  You  found  that  night’s  roasting  a  cure  for  love, 
eh  ?  Well,  I’ll  remember  you  this  time  :  there  is  a  plaster 
for  your  [Gives  him  a  note, J  sore  memory — vanish  ! 

Bob.  Never  mind,  you  may  want  me  again  if  you  like. 

[Looks  at  money — exit,  L. 

Lit.  Why,  your  long  residence  in  Paris  has  transmuted 
you  from  a  model  for  young  England,  into  the  type  of 
ieune  Franc0.  Some  time  since  we  parted  at  Alma  Ma¬ 
ter. 

Roe.  Three  years;  I,  started  immediately  for  Paris, 
where  my  brother  was  ambassador  plenipotentiary;  my 
father  wished  me  to  graduate  in  diplomacy  under  his  able 
surveillance. 

Lit .  And  your  respected  sire,  the  Home  Secretary  ? 

Roe.  I  have  not  seen  the  Earl  since  my  return. 

Lit.  How  ? 

Roe  No  !  to  be  candid  with  you,  I’m  in  a  scrape,  so  I 
naturally  hastened  to  you. 


10 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  1. 


Lit.  i  have,  at  your  service,  a  stock  of  advice,  gene¬ 
rously  subscribed  by  my  friends  when  1  revealed  to  them 
the  bottom  of  my  purse — proceed. 

Hoc.  The  most  ancient  of  maladies. 

Lit.  Oh,  love  ? 

Roc.  To  distraction. 

Lit.  Howl  vulgarly,  with  a  woman — or  fashionably, 
with  yourself? 

Roc.  Listen  and  judge.  Ten  days  ago,  as,  in  obedience 
to  my  father’s  mandate,  I  was  on  my  route  from  Paris — 
my  chariot  was  arrested  on  the  Dover  Road,  by  a  spill 
illustrated  with  oaths  and  screams. 

Lit.  Heroics — by  Jove  ! 

Roc.  Post-boy  whipping — horses  kicking — old  gentle¬ 
men  cursing — young  lady  screaming  and  fainting  alter¬ 
nately. 

Lit.  Lucky  dog ! 

Roc.  I  disengaged  the  senseless  fair,  threw  off  her  bon¬ 
net,  and  unveiled  a  face — oh,  Coke,  such  a  face  !  she 
gasped  for  breath. 

Lit.  You  lent  her  some  of  yours  ? 

Roc.  I  did — but  she  relapsed  again. 

Lit.  Naturally — so  you  kept  her  alive  by  repeated  ap¬ 
plication  ? 

Roc.  ’Till  her  father  came  up. 

Lit.  She  recovered,  then  ? 

Roc .  Immediately — he  thanked  me,  tucked  my  angel 
under  his  arm,  they  re-entered  the  righted  vehicle,  and 
drove  on. 

Lit.  Is  that  all  ? 

Roc.  Forbid  it,  Venus — no — with  incredible  trouble  I 
traced  them.  The  father — the  dragon  who  guards  this 
Hesperian  fruit,  is  an  old  East-Indian  Colonel,  as  proud 
as  Lucifer,  and  as  hot  as  his  dominions — I  hovered  round 
the  house  for  a  week. 

Lit.  Successfully  ? 

Roe.  I  saw  her  once  for  a  second  at  the  hack  garden 
gate. 

Lit.  To  speak  to  her  ? 

Roc.  T  hadn’t  time. 

Lu  No?— Oh! 

Roe .  Na  So  I  gave  her  a  kiss-*- 


Scene  1  ] 


AND  YOUNG  HU  A  UTS. 


11 


Lit.  Excellent  economy  !  and  her  name — 

Roc .  Is  Rocket — her  father,  an  eccentric  old  bully, 
turns  his  house  into  a  barrack — mounts  guard  at  the  hall- 
door — the  poor  girl  can’t  move  without  a  sentry,  and  I 
believe  her  lady’s  maid  is  an  old  one-eyed  corporal  of  ar¬ 
tillery. 

Lit .  Is  she  rich  ? 

Roc.  She  is  fair. 

Lit.  Possibly — a  thing  to  be  admired  in  a  danscusc  or  a 
friend’s  wife  ;  but  in  the  matrimonial  stocks,  done  on  our 
Western  ’change,  the  fairest  hue  we  recognise  is  yellow 

Roc.  Does  virtue  go  for  nothing  I 

Lit.  Oh  !  no  ;  character  is  indispensable  to  servant 
maids,  but  virtue,  as  a  word,  is  obsolete  ;  we  have,  indeed, 
a  French  one  like  it,  vertu ,  yes — ladies  of  vertu  might  sig¬ 
nify  articles  of  rarity. 

Roc.  Does  the  lexicon  of  fashion,  then,  abjure  the 

sense ? 

Lit.  Certainly  not ;  virtue  signifies  the  stren  gth  in  a 
bottle  of  salts. 

Roe.  And  vice  ! 

Lit.  A — a  fault  in  horses. 

Roc.  And  religion  ? 

Lit.  A  pew  in  a  fashionable  church ! 

Roe.  So ’t would  appear  that  beauty  is  invested  in  bank 
stock ;  grace  consolidated  with  the  landed  interests ; 
while  reputation  fluctuates  with  the  three  and  a  half  po.» 
cents. 

Lit.  Exactly  ;  gold  is  the  Medean  bath  of  youth,  pos¬ 
sessing  also  a  magnetic  attraction  for  every  cardinal  vir¬ 
tue,  while  all  the  plagues  of  Egypt  are  shut  up  in  one 
English  word,  and  that  is  poverty ;  the  exhibition  of 
which,  like  that  of  the  Gorgon’s  head,  turns  the  hearts  of 
your  dearest  friends  to  stone. 

Roc.  Can  May  Fair  legislation  so  repeal  the  laws  of  na¬ 
ture  I  by  Jove  !  the  West  end  at  last  will  cut  the  sun  be¬ 
cause  it  rises  in  the  east,  and  live  by  wax  light  . 

Lit.  You,  perhaps,  may  never  see  the  world  as  I  do, 
Charles,  because  I  am  poor ;  but  a  rich  man’s  view  of 
life  is  bounded  by  his  parasites — he  feels  but  through  hi 
glove,  and  thinks  all  things  are  soft. 

Rod.  Then  I  am  lost,  for  my  angel  is  pennyless. 


12 


01  )  HEADS 


I 


'Act  i 


Lit.  Right,  angels  arc  the  only  thii  gs  who  can  '/e  poor 
and  lovely  ;  but  to  marry  thus  before  you  have  given  the 
worshipful  company  of  mamma  brokers  a  chance,  is 
against  all  rule. 

Roc.  Would  you  have  me  marry  a  thing  whose  mind  is 
bounded  by  her  bonnet,  a  soul  perfumed  with  foreign 
sentiment — as  guiltless  of  old  English  virtues  as  her* 
tongue  is  of  their  native  names.  No!  I’ll  have  a  heart 
that  beats  with  blood — a  cheek  that’s  red  with  it — and  be 
no  slave  :>f  such  a  thing  of  scent  and  paint — but  strike 
one  blow  for  love  and  human  nature. 

Lit.  Oh,  you  luxurious  dog!  f Shaking  his  hand.]  Oh 
— h  !  if  1  could  only  afford  to  marry  a  woman  instead  of 
a  banker’s  account — but  what  obstacles  oppose  your  epi¬ 
curean  iutentions  towards  Miss  Rocket? 

Roc.  1  hear  my  father  intends  for  me  the  double  honour 
of  a  seat  in  the  house,  and  a  wife — my  cousin,  Alice,  the 
wealthy  young  widow  of  Lord  George  Hawthorn. 

Lit.  Lady  Alice — who  shook  the  very  apathy  of  the 
opera  last  week,  by  demanding  to  be  balloted  into  the 
omnibus  box  ! 

Roe.  Such  a  wife — why  do  they  not  give  her  a  com¬ 
mission  in  the  blues,  at  once  ? 

Lit.  She  flashed  into  our  fashionable  system  like  a  new 
comet,  whose  eccentricity  defied  all  known  law,  and 
quickly  drew  after  her  a  train  that  obliterated  all  the  con¬ 
stellations  of  St.  James’s,  and  the  heavenly  bodies  of  May 
fair. 

Roe.  You  know  her,  then? 

Lit.  A  Polka  acquaintanceship!  I’ve  been  introduced 
to  her  waist; — we  know  each  other  in  the  house  of  our 
mutual  friends — but  of  what  use  can.  I  be  here  ? 

Roe.  The  greatest.  My  father  has  arranged  my  no¬ 
mination  for  Closeborough,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  advocate 
his  political  principles  in  the  house,  to  which  party  old 
Rocket  is  a  virulent  opponent. 

Lit.  What’s  to  be  done  ? 

Roc.  Oppose  my  father — and  thus — oblige  me  by  op¬ 
posing  my  election,  and  I  will  answer  for  your  success. 

“  Lit.  Ha  !  ha  !  help  me  to  your  borough — why,  you 
“  rascal,  would  you  make  the  Home  Secretary  purchase 
4  in  a  talented  member  for  the  opposition  ? 


Sceft:  I.J 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


13 


“  Roe.  Consent.” 

Lit.  With  all  my  heart ;  I  see  but  one  obstacle — the 
qualification  ! 

Roe.  The  thiee  hundred  a-year — that’s  true — stay — 
Coke,  at  Eton,  you  were  considered  a  fellow  of  great 
pluck. 

Lit.  You  flatter. 

Roe.  You  look  tenacious  of  life. 

Lit.  Ha  ! 

Roe.  I’ll  make  you  a  present  of  the  widow. 

Lit.  Lady  Alice  ? 

Roe.  If  she  have  not,  ere  this,  volunteered  to  Morocco 
Dr  Macao. 

Lit.  Charles,  to  oblige  you  I  accept  the  borough — fo 
your  sake  I’ll  encounter  the  widow  and  the  five  thousand 
a-year. 

Bob  rushes  in ,  l. 

Boh.  Sir — sir — they  are  come — 

Lit.  They — who? 

Boh.  Two  of  the  fattest  clients,  sir,  you  ever  saw. 

Lit.  Clients — you  are  mad,  or  a  fool. 

.  Boh.  Neither,  sir — but  I  think  they  are  both. 

Lit.  Stay — come  here.  Bob — [ Boh  crosses  to  Little¬ 
ton ,]  what  are  they  like  ? 

Boh.  One,  sir,  is  a  very  respectable  old  gentleman  in 
black,  white  hair — 

Lit.  Scriven,  the  attorney  and  money  lender.  The 
other? 

Boh.  A  responsible — sort  of — sporting  character. 

Lit.  Craft,  the  bailiff — I’m  ruined!  [ Grosses  to  l. 

Roe.  What’s  the  debt  ?  perhaps  I — 

Lit.  No,  Charles — to  be  honest  with  you — my  hopes 
are  too  slender  to  bear  an  obligation.  I’m  as  low  in  pride, 
now,  as  I  am  in  pocket,  and  cannot  afford  to  turn  a  friend 
into  a  creditor. 

Boh.  They  arc  just  on  this  landing,  sir. 

Roe.  Come  with  me.  I  can  offer  you  a  room  at  my 
father’s  ’till  your  election  is  over. 

Boh.  Step  inside,  sir ;  while  they  come  in,  you  can  go 
out  by  the  other  door. 

Lit.  Farewell,  fond  visions  of  the  woolsack  :  Bob,  give 
up  my  chattels,  let  them  take  possession. 


J4 


OLD  HEADS 


k  \CT  I 


Bob .  All  right,  sir;  a  table,  two  chairs,  a  heel,  and  a 
boot-jack.  [Exeunt  at  the  back,  c..  followed  by  Bob.  After 
a  pause,  knocking  is  heard,  l. 

Enter  Rural,  l. 

Rut.  Littleton  !  Littleton  !  Litt — eh  ! — bless  me,  no¬ 
body  !  Toni,  come  in. 

Enter  Tom  Coke,  l. 

Tom .  I’m  here,  minister  ;  so  these  be  brother  Little* 
ton’s  chambers — well,  they  don’t  look  prodigal,  neither. 

Rur .  No,  no,  but  where  is  he  ? 

Tom .  And  they  ca’  this  the  Temple,  eh  ?  It  ’ll  be 
moire  loike  a  coil  hoile  aboove  ground  than  owt  else  a 
knaw  ;  well,  minister,  you  would  coome  up  to  town  wi’ 
me  ;  here  we  are — what  next  1 

Rur .  My  dear  boy,  I  know  that  you  feel  an  old  man 
like  me  a  burthen  on  you — now  you  are  a  great  man,  a 
member  of  parliament. 

Tom.  That’s  onkind  of  you,  minister,  and  you’re  not 
given  to  say  cruel  things  ;  why,  isn’t  your  face  the  very 
first  thing  in  the  world  I  can  remember  ?  haven’t  you 
been  a  father  to  us  since  we  were  left  orphans  ?  a  bur¬ 
then  !  that’s  the  hardest  word  you  spoke  since  you  taught 
us  catechesm  wi  brother  Littleton  sitting  on  one  knee 
and  I  on  t’oother. 

Rur.  Think  of  that,  Tom,  do;  and  to  see  you  united 
again  is  my  prayer. 

Tom .  But  wha  couldn’t  yaw  wait  until  we  had  set  down 
quietly  in  the  Earl  of  Pompion’s  house,  according  to  his 
invitation  1  ’Twas  main  kind  of  him,  minister;  he’s  the 
Home  Secretary,  and  the  next  post  after  I  was  made 
member  o’  Parliament,  brought  me  a  hearty  invitation 
to  his  house  :  that’s  hospitality. 

Rur.  But  where  is  Littleton  1 

Tom.  I’ll  tell  ye  : — in  bed,  sleeping  off  his  last  night’s 
debauch,  or  wi’  flushed  and  haggard  cheek,  still  Icaring 
over  the  gambling  table. 

Note.— The  language  used  by  Tom  Coke  is  written  in  a  broad  dialect,  to  distiti- 
guisli  the  character,  but  should  be  acted  with  an  accent  only;  and  in  Provincial 
Theatres,  sho  ild  net  be  given  to  the  gentleman  psrfonning  Yorkshircineh*  but  U>ti.<i 
eccentric  comedian, 


Scene  I.] 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


15 


Rur.  No.  Tom,  no!  my  little  pupil,  my  child!  a  gam¬ 
bler! — no  !  he  was  wild,  sensitive,  but  you  know  he  was 
never — 

Tom.  I  know  no  more  than  this — I  remember  him,  the 
rapture  of  my  poor  mother,  the  hope  of  my  father — and 
you,  you  always  loved  him  best. 

Rur .  Tom,  Tom,  don’t  reproach  me  ! 

Tom.  Reproach  i  nay,  not  so — Nature  gave  him  a  great 
mind,  me  only  an  honest  one.  He  was  born  for  greater 
things  than  I,  and  so  he  had  all  that  wealth  could  lavish 
on  him — I  didn’t  grudge  it  him — he  fed  from  the  silver 
plate, .1  from  the  wooden  platter — I  cared  nuaw’t  for  that; 
but  at  his  grand  school,  why  did  he  find  the  houses  of  my 
lord  this,  and  marquis  that,  more  welcome  than  his  own 
home  ?  I  don’t  reproach,  mind — but — but  when  our  mo¬ 
ther  died  I  stood  alone  by  her — and  her  last  breath  pray¬ 
ed  for  him.  I  wasn’t  jealous,  minister;  but  in  my  father’s 
will,  the  part  that  gave  me  my  inheritance  was  writ  in 
the  hard  hand  of  a  lawyer’s  clerk,  while  the  gift  to  Lit¬ 
tleton,  with  a  blessing,  was  penned  by  the  trembling  fin¬ 
gers  of  my  father,  and  blotted  wi’  his  tears.  I’ve  tried  to 
hate  him. 

Rur .  Tom  ! 

Tom.  I  did,  but  I  couldn’t.  The  same  strange  love 
you  all  showed  for  him,  I  shared  wi’  you — a’most  against 
ma  will — and  when  those  short  heartless  letters  would 
come,  containing  nowt  but  calls  for  money — money — mo¬ 
ney — I  could  ha’  freely  given  ten  times  what  I  lent ,  for 
but  four  words  of  heart’s  blood  in  ’em,  if  ’twor  but  “  God 
bless  ye,  Tom.” 

Rur.  And  he  will  say  so  wThen  he  sees  you — he  will. — 
Think  what  a  dear  child  he  was^*-so  clinging,  affectionate, 
innocent.  [ Spoken  very  affectionately. 

Tom.  Ye  forget,  that  was  fifteen  years  ago. 

Rur.  Was  it  ? — bless  me — so  it  was — but  you  remem- 
oer  how  generous,  and  kind,  and  wild  he  was — how  I  do¬ 
ted  on  the  trouble  he  used  to  give  me ;  and  how  clever — 
quite  overpowered  my  faculties.  I  could  never  teach  him 
anything  but  cat’s  cradle. 

Re-enter  Bob,  c.  d.  f. 

Oh,  here  is  his  servant. 

[ Bob  advances,  whistling,  and  sits  trn  the  table  u 


16 


OLD  HEADS 


[  Act  1 


Tom.  Where  be  thy  measter,  lad  ? 

Bob.  Beyond  your  clutches,  vampire  oh,  you  mav 
staie  ! 

Tom.  What  dost  mean  ? 

Bob.  Why,  that  the  paltry  debt  I  suppose  you  come  to 
sue  for,  will  be  paid. 

Tom.  My  debt?  he  knows  me,  then? 

Bob.  Unhappily,  he  does. 

Tom,.  Is  this  his  welcome  when  a  come  to  tak  him  by 
the  hand  ? 

Bob.  By  the  collar,  you  mean — oh,  there,  seize — seize  ! 
• — your  sort  don't  refuse  even  two-pence  in  the  poujid. 

Tom.  This  is  too  much.  [AttemjHs  to  get  at  Bob. 

Rur.  Stop,  don’t  be  rash  !  let  me  see  the  boy.  [ Crosses 
to  c.,  and  puts  on  his  spectacles.\  My  good  boy,  I’m  sure 
you  will  tell  me  where  your  master  is. 

[Looking  Bob  in  the  face  affectionately . 

Bob.  Oh,  you  precious  old  rascal ! 

Rur .  Good  gracious  !  [ Rural  starts. 

Bob.  Arn’t  you  ashamed  of  yourself? 

Tom.  Let  me  at  him. 

Rur.  [Holding  Tom.]  No!  no!  Tom,  I  insist. 

Bob.  I  say  it  again — you  are  vampires,  leeches,  and, 
though  I  am  nothing  but  a  poor  servant,  before  I  would 
do  a  day’s  work  like  this,  I’d  see  all  the  gains  your  trade 
has  ever  wrenched  from  misery  sunk  to  the  bottom  of  the 
sea — ach  !  [Exit,  slamming  the  door ,  l. 

Tom.  Well,  minister,  ar’t  satisfied  now  ? 

Bur.  He  never  could  intend — 

Tom.  Intend — didn’t  he  know  us — he  spoke  of  my 
debt — oh,  ’twas  done  by  his  orders — let  us  go. 

f  Crosses  to  l. 

Rur.  He  called  me  an  old  rascal — and  asked  me  if  I 
wasn’t  ashamed  of  myself — ashamed  of — coming. 

Tom.  Come,  come,  your  errand’s  over — forget  him. 

Rur.  To  me — to  me — my  hopes — my  fond,  fond  hopes 
of  seeing  him  again — of  reconciling — of — oh,  Tom  ! 

Tom.  And  I,  too — but  no  matter — I  loos  him  off  for 
ever — you  shall  return  to-day  to  Yorkshire. 

Rur.  No,  not  yet — there’s  some — some  mistake — for¬ 
give  him. 

Tom.  I  cared  nowt  for  what  he  said  o’  me,  but  to  in- 
soolt  you,  his  old  friend,  his  father! 


Scene  1 1 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


17 


Rur.  Yc s — but  he  could  not  mean  to — to — 

Tom.  Why,  domnied  if  ye  beant  crying.  The  villain 
— eoom — don’-  take  on  so — the — the — 

Rur.  No — never  mind. 

Tom.  I  wouldn’t — if  I  could  only  get  one  crack  at  his 
poll,  I’d  forgive  him. 

Rur .  Don’t  be  violent.  I  can’t — I  won’t  beheve  my 
ears  against  my  heart.  I’ll  see  him — I’ll  talk  to  him  as  I 
used.  [ Crosses ,  u. 

Tom.  The  heartless  reprobate. 

Rur.  [Sternly.]  Tom,  I’ll  not  allow  you  to  speak  so  of 
your  little  brother. 

Tom.  Nay,  ’taint  bad  enough,  that’s  sure. 

Rur.  God  bless  me!  there — your  violence  has  made  me 
swear—I  declare  I  shall  be  angry:  now,  my  dear  Tom — 
if  you  will  only  leave  it  all  to  me,  and  have  patience,  you 
will  see  that  I  am  right. 

[  Going ,  followed  by  Tom  grumbling . 

Tom.  Go  on — defend  him  again — 

R  ur.  If  only  you  would  be  quiet. 

Tom.  T’ould  man’s  getting  crazy,  I’m  thinking. 

Rur.  And  have  patience — now  only  a  little  patience. 

[Exeunt,  l.,  Rural  crying  and  expostulating ,  followed 
by  To  my  grumbling. 

END  OF  ACT  I. 


ACT  II. 

Scene  I. —  Lady  Tampion's  Boudoir. — Decorated  in  Ara¬ 
besque^  furnished  very  richly  in  buhl  and  marquctcriey 
divans,  prideux ,  causeuses ,  bergercs  and  dormeuses ,  co¬ 
vered  in  chintz  ;  tambour  frame,  and  work  tables — or • 
namentnl  ivriting  table — alabaster  F reach  clock — Indian 
screen ,  fyc. 

Lady  Pompfon  discovered  reclining  on  a  bergere ,  r.,  with  he v 
feet  shawled  on  an  Ottoman ,  and  a  Spaniel  in  her  lap. 

Lady  P.  [  Yawning  and  closing  a  book.]  Really,  pari ia- 
mont  ought  to  do  something  for  that  dear  creature,  Eugene 
bue.  I  11  speak  to  the  Earl  about  it !  [Strikes  a,  gon <z. 


18 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  11 


Enter  a  richly  liveried  Servant,  l. 

Has  Willis  sent  out  those  invitations? 

Scr.  Yes,  my  lady. 

Lady  P.  I  am  not  at  home  this  morning  to  any  one. 

Ser.  Lord  Charles  Roebuck,  my  lady,  is  expected  every 
moment. 

Lady  P .  Oh,  true  !  Charles  does  arrive  to-day  from 
Paris  :  well,  tell  him  the  number  of  my  box  at  the  Opera, 
and  my  hour  in  the  ring.  I  dare  say  we  shall  meet — my 
nerves  are  not  equal  to  receiving  him  now.  [ Loud  and  pe¬ 
culiar  knock .]  Good  heavens !  can  that  be  he  ? 

Ser.  No,  my  lady  !  that  is  lady  Alice  Hawthorn’s  tiger. 

Lady  P.  I’m  not  at  home — I  could  never  survive  that 
girl  an  hour. 

Enter  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  l. 

Lady  A.  Then  prepare  to  die,  my  dear  aunt,  for  here  I 
am  for  the  day — ha!  ha!  [  To  the  Servant.]  Tell  my  groom 
to  bring  my  carriage  at  nine.  [  To  Lady  Pompion.]  You 
will  excuse  my  leaving  your  table  at  so  early  an  hour,  but 
I  never  miss  the  last  act  of  the  Barbiere. 

Lady  P.  My  head — my  head — the  salts — the  restora¬ 
tives. 

Lady  A.  Tom — bring  the  liqueur  case,  f Exit  Servant , 
L.J  Ha  !  ha  !  well,  my  dear,  I  heard  of  Charley’s  arrival, 
so  I  have  come  to  dine  with  you — tell  me,  what  is  he  like  ? 
— partiality  apart — is  he  worth  making  love  to  ? 

Lady  P.  Charles  has  not  yet  arrived  home. 

Lady  A.  Why,  I  saw,  by  the  Post l,  that  he  arrived  in 
town  last  night. 

Lady  P.  Indeed  !  all  !  well  ! — he  might  as  well  have 
sent  a  card. 

Lady  A.  A  card  !  has  he  not  rattled  you  up  at  four  in 
the  morning — broken  in  your  knocker  panel,  and  pulled 
up  the  bell  by  the  roots?  Hasn’t  he  dislocated  your  wrist 
and  kissed  you  into  an  asthma  ?  hasn’t — 

Lady  P.  Lady  Alice,  my  son  has  not  the  manners  of 
Abdel-Kader  to  take  my  establishment  by  such  a  sur¬ 
prise,  and  I  trust  he  always  leaves  bells  and  knockers  to 
the  servants. 

'Lady  A.  L>oes  he?  then  Charley’s  occupation’s  gone 


Scene  l.J 


AND  YOUNG  H KARTS. 


19 


indeed.  But  apropos ,  Georgy  ;  what  fun  1  had  with  your 
old  Earl  last  night  at  Almack’s — ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Lady  P.  My  old  Earl! 

Lccd/y  A.  He  came  in,  thawed  with  a  decent  dinner; 
the  premier’s  Steinburg  had  given  the  cadavre  a  bloom* 
’pon  my  life  he  talked  impudence  to  me. 

Lady  P.  The  Earl  of  Pompion  ! 

Lady  A.  It  would  have  delighted  you  to  watch  such 
signs  of  restored  animation.  A  knot  of  politicians  nad 
nearly  secured  him — politics  at  Almack’s — I  darted  in 
in  amongst  them,  crying  “  treason,”  seized  Pompey  him¬ 
self,  and  whirled  him  into  the  most  delirious  polka. 

[Hums  a  polka . 

Lady  P.  A  polka  ! 

Lady  A.  Toe  and  heel,  as  I’m  a  widow  and  a  sinner , 
we  threw  Jullien  into  extacies,  till  I  restored  the  Home 
Secretary  to  his  party,  a  wiser  and  a  better  man. 

Enter  Lord  Pompion,  c.,  from  l.  down  l. 

Didn’t  I,  Pompey? 

Lord  P.  Lady  Alice,  et  tous  jours  gaie,  where’s  my  coun 
tess  ? 

Lady  A.  Not  up  yet,  look  !  [ Points  to  Lady  Pompion , 
who  is  pulling  her  Spaniel' s  ears. J  or  stay,  she  is  making 
Bichon’s  toilette. 

Lord  P.  I  forgot  to  mention  that  I  expect  Mr.  Coke, 
of  Yorkshire,  on  a  visit:  he  has  lately  been  returned  for 
Ashby,  and  I  want  his  interest  and  a  loan  to  secure  Charles 
for  Closeborough — we  must  show  him  attention. 

Lady  P.  Very  well,  write  down  his  name,  and  I  T]  send 
it  to  the  housekeeper. 

Lady  A.  Long  live  old  English  hospitality! 

Lord  P.  He  has  some  of  his  family  with  him. 

Lady  P .  They  can  have  the  britzska,  and  you  muet 
manage  something  for  their  Opera — leave  it  to  the  house¬ 
keeper. 

Lady  A.  Talking  of  visitors,  I  have  invited  a  couple  to 
you. 

Lady  P.  To  us  ! 

Lady  A.  Yes — Colonel  Rocket  and  his  daughter  old 
friends  of  mine — my  honhonniere  in  Brook  Street  only 
holds  me  and  my  plagues,  but,  fortunately,  having  a  card 


20 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  II 


of  yours  in  my  case,  I  thought  how  glad  you’d  be.  I  men¬ 
tioned  six  as  your  dinner  hour.  Don’t  be  anxious — they’ll 
be  here  in  a  minute. 

Lord  P.  How  rash — he  may  be  of  the  opposition. 

Lady  A.  An  East  India  Director,  with  two  boroughs. 

\ Aside  ]  Rabbit  ones. 

Lord  P.  Is  the  girl  presentable  ? 

Lady  A.  Met  them  at  Devonshire  House — 

Lord  P.  Two  boroughs  !  my  dear  Alice,  you  are  rash, 
but  you  mean  well. 

Lady  P.  Of  course  I  do — only  think  of  two  boroughs, 
Pompey.  [ Aside .]  A  half-pay  colonel,  with  less  interest 
than  a  treasury  clerk,  but  a  glorious  old  fellow.  I’ll  bet 
he’ll  kiss  the  Countess  in  a  week — what  fun  ! 

f  Lady  Alice  and  Lord  Pompion  retire  up  stage ,  c. 

Enter  a  Servant,  l. 

Ser .  Lord  Charles  Roebuck. 

Enter  Roebuck,  followed  by  Littleton  Coke,  l. 

Roe .  My  dearest  mother ! 

Lady  P.  Ah  !  Charles,  how  d’ye  do,  dear?  [Lifts  her 
eye-glass.]  Bless  me,  how  brown  you’re  grown — for  hea¬ 
ven’s  sake,  take  care  of  Bichon,  there.  [Shakes  his  hand 
over  the  dog.]  Have  you  brought  me  the  Eau  de  Cologne  ? 

Roe.  Yes,  everything — but,  my  dear  mother — 

Lady  P.  Dear — how  old  he  looks  for  a  son  of  mine. 

Lord  P.  But  undoubtedly  improved — 

[Advances  on  the  l. 

Roe.  My  dear  father,  forgive  me ! 

[Offering  both  his  hands. 

Lord  P.  [Regarding  him.]  A  Pompion,  decidedly. 

Lady  P.  Tell  me,  Charles,  your  Italian  is  Roman — and 
— ah  !  I  see  you  wear  Bouquet  du  Roi .  I  understand  that 
esprit  d'  Isabella  was  the  court  scent  at  the  Tuilleries, 
just  now. 

Lord  P.  Of  course  your  present  appearance  is  the  re¬ 
mains  of  a  diplomatic  compliment  to  the  Court  of  Versail 
les — very  judicious — 

Lady  P.  I  trust,  Charles,  you  have  picked  up  no  foreign 
immoralities — I  mean,  you  goto  church  sometimes;  w 
have  a  pew  at  St.  George’s — and,  apropos,  have  glace 
eilks  gone  out  yet,  in  Paris  ] 


Scene  I.] 


AND  ifOUNG  HEARTS. 


21 


Roe.  Really,  dearest  mother,  I  didn’t  notice. 

Lady  P.  Ah  !  boys  are  so  thoughtless. 

Lord  P.  You  don’t  make  yourself  remarkable  in  dress 
or  equipage,  Charles? 

Lady  P.  I  hope  you  have  no  penchant  for  liaisons  with 
public  people  or  unmarried  women,  dear? 

Lord  P.  Every  notoriety,  which  is  not  political,  is  hurt¬ 
ful. 

Lady  P.  I  trust  you  don’t  swear,  Charles — I  mean  in 
English ;  and  excuse  the  anxiety  of  a  mother — you  con¬ 
tinue  to  use  the  almond  paste  I  wrote  to  you  about  ? 

Lord  P.  Apropos — you’ll  find  in  my  room  a  list  of  the 
doubtful  ones  of  our  party,  so  that  you  may  know  where 
to  lose  your  money,  at  Crockford’s — of  course,  you  will 
not  enter  any  of  the  lower  gaming  clubs — and,  by  the  bye 
— be  cool  to  Vernon. 

Roe.  My  dear  father — my  schoolfellow,  Dick  Vernon, 
once  saved  my  life. 

Lord.  P.  Possibly — but  he  voted  against  us  on  the  Bar- 
badoes  Bill,  and  he  has  talked  of  conscientious  principles, 
and  in  presence  of  the  Premier — in  short — he  was  omit¬ 
ted  in  the  Premier’s  dinner  yesterday — of  course,  you 
speak  German? 

Lady  P.  Do  you  bet? 

Lady  A.  Do  you  Polk? 

Roe.  Blest  voice — surely — it  is — 

Lady  A.  Your  cousin  Alice — how  are  you,  Charley. 

He  hesitates.]  all  right — go  on — \Roe.  crosses  to  her.]  I’m 
luinan  nature  !  [He  kisses  her.  What’s  your  friend’s 
name  ?  we  are  acquainted,  I  know, — but  I  can’t  recollect 
who  he  is  ! 

Roe.  [Aside.]  Coke — I  had  almost  forge tten  him — what 
can  he  think  of  my  cold  reception  ;  how  frigidly  they 
will  receive  him — I  am  fairly  ashamed  to — [Brings  Coke 
down  on  the  l.  c.]  My  lord  and  lady,  mother,  allow  me, 
Mr.  Coke. 

Lord  P.  Coke!  of  Yorkshire  ?  [Crosses  to  LittleUn. 
Lit.  Yes. 

Lord  P .  Ashby  ? 

Lit.  The  same. 

Lord  P .  [Heartily.]  My  dear  sir,  I’m  delighted  to  see 
you !  [Shaking  him  by  both  hands.]  delighted  !  this  is  an 


22 


OLD  HEADS 


Act  II 


unexpected  pleasure,  to  find  in  you  a  friend  of  my  son’s 
allow  me — the  Countess — Mr.  Coke,  of  Ashby. 

Lady  A.  Mr.  Coke,  of  Ashby!  Take  care  of  Biclion 
lia  !  ha  ! 

Roe .  Mr.  Coke — Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  with  whom  the 
whole  world  is  in  love. 

Lady  A.  Speak  for  yourself,  sir. 

[Speaks  aside  with  Coke. — Lady  Pompion  sounds  a 
gong ,  and  a  Servant  enters ,  l.,  who  unwraps  her 
feet  and  ivraps  the  dog  in  the  shawl. 

Lord l  P.  You  will  excuse  me,  Mr.  Coke — the  business 
of  the  nation — till  dinner,  eh?  sans  adieu!  [Shakes  his 
hand .]  Charles,  I  can  spare  you  a  moment;  follow  me  to 
my  study.  [  Crosses ,  L.,  and  exit. 

Lady  A .  Adieu,  Charles  !  au  plaisir,  Mr.  Poke — by, 
bv,  Alice. 

Lady  A.  Adieu,  Bichon. 

t/  7 

[ Exit  Lady  Pompion,  r.,  folloived  by  the  Servant  car¬ 
rying  the  dog. 

Roe.  What  can  this  mean?  Coke  received  with  such 
fervour — and  this — this  is  my  return,  after  three  years’ 
absence!  well!  -  [Going,  l. 

Lady  A.  (r.)  I  say,  Charley,  are  glace  silks  out  in 
Paris  ? 

Roe.  By  heaven  ! 

Lady  A.  Ah  !  ah  !  1  hope  you  don’t  swear — I  mean  in 
English!  ah!  ah!  ah!  [Exit  Roebuck,  l. — Aside.]  So!  a 
pair  of  recruits  to  my  staff! 

Lit.  [Aside.]  And  this  glorious  creature  is  the  deadly 
widow  whom  Roebuck  gives  up  without  a  sigh.  [A  pause. 

Lady  A.  Well,  Mr.  Coke,  if  you  have  nothing  droll  to 
say,  give  us  your  maiden  speech;  on  what  question  do 
you  come  out. 

Lit.  To  love,  or  not  to  love  ! 

Lady  A.  I’ll  settle  that — to  love — carried,  eh  ? 

Lit.  Without  a  division.  [Kisses  her  hand. 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  Hang  the  fellow’s  impudence. — Well, 
if  you  can’t  say  something  funny,  make  me  cry;  I  haven’t 
cried  since  my  marriage,  except  with  laughing.  You  are 
on  a  visit  here,  eh  ?  you  will  dnd  it  a  horrid  bore. 

Lit.  I  can  view  it  only  as  a  paradise  at  present ;  wher 
your  ladyship  leaves  it,  I  may  see  m  it  a  desert. 


Scene  I.] 


AND  l'O;  NG  HEARTS. 


% 


23 


Lady  A.  Are  you  an  old  friend  of  my  (cusin’s? 

Lit.  Lord  Charles  and  I  entered  Eton  on  the  same 
day,  and  never  parted  for  nine  years — I  may  say  we  are 
brothers. 

Lady  A.  I  have  a  secret  with  which  I  mean  to  elec¬ 
trify  the  old  folks  here — I  want  a  partner  in  the  scheme 
— can  1  trust  you  ? 

Lit.  With  your  whole  heart. 

Lady  /l.  Miss  Rocket,  a  friend  of  mine,  is  in  love  with 
my  cousin  Charles  here — don’t  stare  ! — I  found  it  out,  and 
have  asked  her  on.  a  visit. 

Lit.  To  supplant  yourself! — why,  the  Earl  sent  for  Roe¬ 
buck  home,  to — expressly — to — marry  you. 

Lady  A.  Me  !  oh,  the  old  fox  !  Ha  !  ha  !  so,  so  ! — so 
much  the  better;  I’ll  teach  him  to  keep  his  intrigues  with¬ 
in  Whitehall.- — To  begin,  then,  let’s  be  friends. 

Lit.  Ah  !  beware,  Lady  Alice !  the  friend  of  a  young 
and  lovely  woman' should  have  sixty  years,  at  least,  and 
holy  orders  for  his  qualification. 

Lady  A.  Young  man,  take  my  advice;  a  woman  never 
likes  her  lover  to  be  more  careful  of  her  character  than 
she  is  herself,  or  too  provident  in  his  heart’s  economy ; 
your  sex  arrogates  too  much  on  the  solitary  advantage 
which  nature  has  given  it  over  ours. 

Lit.  What  is  that? 

Lady  A.  You  are  born  without  reputation. — What  club 
owns  you  ? 

Lit.  None  ! 

Lady  A .  Right — allow  neither  your  opinions  nor  your 
society  to  be  dictated  to  you  ; — what  clique  claims  you  ? 

Lit .  Only  one — [Aside.]  the  Queen’s  Bench, — [Aloud.] 
but  they  are  too  exclusive  and  confined  for  me. 

Lady  A.  You  love  liberty? 

Lit.  As  a  mistress  likely  to  be  lost. 

Lady  A.  You  are  a  man  after  my  own  heart. 

Lit.  I  am,  and  I  trust  soon  to  come  up  with  it. 

Lady  A.  What  is  the  world  ? 

Lit.  A  gentler  synonym  for  vice  in  town. 

Lady  A.  It  seems  to  me  that  your  sex  is  capable  of  but 
two  characters — selfish  politicians  or  reckless  gamesters. 
Did  modern  chivalry  erect  new  orders,  one  half  r.obility 
would  range  under  the  folds  of  a  minister’s  table  cloth* 
while  the  other  would  canonize  Orockford. 


24 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  It 


9 

Lit.  Fair  play,  Lady  Alice,  or  I  mus:  assert  my  sex. 

Lady  A.  A  challenge  !  tell  me,  as  this  sex  of  yours  has 
adopted  every  effeminacy  of  soul  in  its  desire  to  change 
genders  with  ours,  when  will  you  assume  the  fan  and  fla- 
con  ? 

Lit .  When  ladies  who  have  already  engrafted  the  whip 
on  the  parasol,  revel  in  tops  and  inconceivables. 

Lady  A.  W omen  must  adopt  your  habits,  if  left  at  home 
to  exercise  those  duties  of  husbands  which  you  are  per¬ 
forming  in  every  house  but  your  own. 

Lit .  At  home  !  are  ladies  ever  “  at  home,”  except,  in¬ 
deed,  when  under  that  pretext  they  invite  the  world  to  see 
their  houses  turned  out  of  doors. 

Lady  A.  To  exhibit  a  satire  upon  men  who  regard  ma¬ 
trimony  as  a  ministerial  sinecure. 

Lit.  [Half  apart .]  The  duties  of  which  are  only  known 
to  the  deputy. 

Lady  A.  True;  men,  whose  friendship  means  a  design 
against  a  wife’s  heart,  and  whose  honor  only  retains  its 
existence  for  the  convenience  of  swearing  by  : — spirit,  re¬ 
presents  to  them  but  a  contempt  of  morality  ;  while  to  pay, 
has  reference  to  nothing  but  visits. 

Lit.  Ahem  !  [Aside. ]  she’s  becoming  personal. 

Lady  A.  Aha !  [Aside.]  that  hit  him  in  the  conscience. 

Lit.  Were  I  a  woman,  such  a  contemplation  of  society 
would  almost  drive  me  to  suicide. 

Lady  A.  A  fashionable  alternative  and  genuine  French. 
I’ve  thought  of  it — but  decided  on  not  doing  the  wrorld  the 
honour  of  cutting  it. 

Lit .  [Aside.]  What  a  gorgeous  creature.  Can  I  believe 
that  such  an  angel  could  ever  be  my  property  ? 

Lady  A.  Now  you  are  puzzling  whether  to  propose  to 
me  next  week  or  the  one  after — delay  it.  Meanwhile, 
make  most  of  your  lime.  I’ll  send  you  a  voucher  for  Al- 
mack’s — I’m  a  patroness,  you  know — here’s  my  polka 
card — let’s  see  ;  I’m  engaged  for  the  1st,  5th,  9th,  and 
17th.  [Sits  on  Ottoman,  r. 

Lit.  Put  me  down  for  all  the  rest.  Enchantress,  you 
divine  my  very  heart.  by  her . 

Lady  A.  What  wonder,  when  you  are  going  to  swrear 
that  I  possess  it. 

XAt.  Ridicule  me,  if  j^ou  will.  Yes,  I  confess  it,  I  cam*? 


Scene  I  J 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


25  • 

here  to  see  you — to  woo  you — perhaps  to  mock — be  mer 
3iful,  for,  see — [Sits  on  the  Ottoman  at  her  feet. \  I  remain 
to  pray. 

Lady  A.  [Opening  his  hand  and  applauding  on  it  with 
her  own ,  as  she  eyes  him  through  her  glass. ]  Bravo— net 
Pad — get  up  now,  there’s  a  dear  man.  I  promise  not  to 
flirt  with  any  one  else  for  one  calendar  week — there,  don’t 
be  vain;  I  once  patronized  a  boy  in  the  guards  for  two 
days,  and  now  he  won’t  enter  the  pit  of  the  opera,  during 
an  aria,  for  fear  of  engaging  the  attention  of  the  house. 

Lit.  [ Seizes  her  handi\  Torturess —  [ Pauses . 

Lady  A.  Go  on. 

Lit.  [Looking  at  her  hand. ]  You  leave  it  in  mine  ] 

Lady  A.  Certainly,  till  you  have  kissed  it — [Littleton 
kisses  her  hnnd. —  They  come  forward .]  Hang  the  fellow, 
he  does  not  think  I’m  gone  so  far  in  love  with  him  as  to 
snatch  it  away. 

Lit.  I  know  not  what  to  think,  but  this  I  know,  that  I’m 
the  happiest  wretch  you  ever  doomed  to  misery. 

Enter  Colonel  Rocket,  c. 

Rock.  Aha,  my  little  congreve — I’ve  been  looking  for 
you  everywhere.  * 

Lady  A.  So,  Colonel,  I  proved  a  sort  of  invisible  shell, 
eh  ]  [  Grosses ,  c. 

Rock.  Only  twice  as  mischievous  ;  1  do  believe  one  like 
you  would  unman  a  whole  fleet.  Ah  !  your  friend  in  the 
army  ] 

Lady  A.  On  my  own  staff!  Colonel  Rocket — Mr. 
Coke.  [Rocket  crosses  to  Coke. 

Rock.  Coke  !  any  relation  to  Cook,  of  the  23rd  ]  no  ! 
ah  !  sorry  for  it !  brave  fellow — cut  in  two  by  a  chain  shot 
at  Pullinabad,  was  knocked  down  by  his  top  half  myself 
— gallant  fellow — bought  1  is  kit  for  100  rupees. 

Lady  A.  Where’s  Kate  ? 

Rock.  I  picqueted  her  m  the  >iall  with  the  baggage — 
happy  to  make  you  acquainted,  sir, — brought  her  up  for  a 
soldier’s  wife — perfect  in  her  facings  as  a  light  company, 
and  can  manoeuvre  a  battalion  with  any  adjutant  in  the  sei 
vice;  look  at  her  walk,  thirty  inches  regulation  pace — 
head  up — left  leg  forward — perfection  !  that’s  the  way  !»/■ 
put  a  gill  into  the  hands  of  a  husband,  sir.  [Crosses.  L 


26 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  I i 

Lady  A,  [Aside  to  Littleton .]  She  twists  the  old  fell(A\ 
round  her  finger  like  a  purse  ! 

[Miss  Rocket  screams  without. 

Rock.  Hollo  !  that’s  her  discharge — she  is  retiring  up  or. 
'?\er  supports. 

Lady  A.  Here  she  comes,  as  wild  as  game  in  July. 

Rock.  Observe  how  steady  she  will  file  in — right  wheel 

Miss  Rocket  runs  in  c.,  her  bonnet  hanging  on  her  neck. 

Kale.  He’s  here — I  saw  him — I — 

Rock.  Hollo  !  fall  in — halt — the  devil — discipline  ! 

Kate.  Yes,  my  dear  father,  presently — but  I  believe 
be  lives  in  this  very  house. 

Rock.  Report  yourself,  who  l 

Kate.  The  gentleman  who  kissed — I  mean,  who  assist¬ 
ed  me  when  w’e  were  upset—  he  rushed  up  to  me  in  the 
hall  here  —and  I  was  so — I  screamed — I — here  he  is. 

Enter  Roebuck,  c. 

Roc.  Can  I  believe  my  eyes  ?  [Aside,  seeing  Rocket.]  old 
Chili  vinegar,  by  Jove  ! 

Rock.  Steady,  Kate — stand  at 'ease — now7,  sir,  might  I 
ask  why,  sir, — you — you — damme,  sir — why  do  you  drive 
in  my  picquet  in  this  way  1 

Roe.  Really — sir — I — I — 

Lady  A.  [Advancing,  r.]  Permit  me,  Colonel,  to  intro¬ 
duce  to  you  Lord  Charles  Roebuck,  son  of  the  Ear]  of 
Pompion,  who  is  too  happy  in  being  your  host. 

Rock.  Sir,  your  hand.  No  apology,  enough,  I  accept 
the  quarters.  Roebuck,  in  the  army — no  ! — any  relation 
to  Rover,  of  the  81st,  retired  on  full  pay  and  two  wooden 
legs,  after  Nepaul  ]  No  !  no  matter — my  daughter,  Kate 
Rocket — Bombay  Cavalry. 

Roe.  Allow  me  to  apologise.  [Aside.]  Whom  have  I  to 
thank  for  this  ]  [Grossing  to  Kate. 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  Me  !  Pm  in  the  secret — she  has  con¬ 
fessed  all  to  me — I  invited  them  here — am  I  not  an  angel ] 

Roc.  [Aside.]  A  divinity  !  How  do  you  find  Coke  ? 

Lady  A.  As  impudent  as  an  heiress  ! 

Roe.  My  father  mistook  him  for  his  brether,  whose  ai« 
rival  ha@  rectified  the  error — I  have  left  him  closeted  with 
the  Earl.  [Goes  up  to  Mist  Rocket. 


Scene L] 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS 


27 


Lady  A.  Now.  Colonel,  to  introduce  you  to  Lady  Pern 
pj  )n — your  arm  ?  Takes  Hockeys  arm . 

Rock  Kate,  present  arms  to  our  host,  and  follow. 

Lady  A.  Executed  with  wonderful  dispatch. 

Rock.  Discipline! 

[Roebuck  and  Miss  Rocket ,  in  earnest  tete-a-tete ,  gt 
up,  it. 

Lady  A.  Only  they  are  marching  without  orders. 

Rock.  Hollo!  halt — attention!  [They  go  out,  c.,  still  con 
versing ,  icithout  apparently  hearing  him. J  It’s  nothing — a 
mere  manoeuvre — but  we  musn’t  club  the  battalion.  We 
only  constitute  the  reserve,  instead  of  the  advance — a  cle¬ 
ver  movement  of  Kate’s  ? 

Lady  A.  Very — 

Rock .  What  we  call  a  diversion. 

Lady  A.  Yes,  very  diverting  indeed — ha  !  ha  ! 

[  Exeunt,  e. 

Lit.  So  now,  fate,  I’m  thy  worshipper  forever — do  with 
me  what  you  will: — this  morning  I  arose  without  hope  ; 
my  belief  in  hearts  was  restricted  to  the  thirteen  in  a  pack 
of  cards — and  here  I  am,  in  a  few  hours,  domiciled  in 
Grosvenor  Square,  with  expectations  beyond  a  new  rail¬ 
way  company. 

Enter  Jesse  Rural,  c. 

Strange,  too — hum  ! 

Rur.  They  tell  me  Littleton  is  here — in  this  house — if 
I  could  only — this  gentleman,  perhaps,  might — pray,  sir? 

Lit.  [  Throwing  himself  in  a  chair ,  n.]  Come  what  may 
to  Thomas  Coke,  I’ll  never  sign  myself  a  brother. 

Rur.  Thomas  Coke  !  let  me  look — [  Takes  out  his  spec 
tacles  tremblingly^]  yes,  yes,  it  is  he — it  is — he  stares  at 
me — he  won’t  know  me  now. 

Lit.  What  a  strange  old  gentleman  ! 

Rur.  I  tremble  to — to — ask  him  ;  if  he  should  meet  me 
as  a  stranger — or — how  altered  he  is — in  form  : — perhaps 
he’s  changed  in — 

Lit.  [Starting  up  ]  By  heaven  !  I  know  that  face. 

Riir.  Mr.  Coke — I — ventured — I — vou  don’t  forget 
your  tutor — friend — Jesse  Rural. 

Lit.  [Running  to  him  and  taking  both  his  hands.]  Foi 
get  you  !  may  Heaven  forget  me  when  I  do  1 


28 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  II 


Rur  Ha!  ha!  ha!  [ Embracing  him .]  bless  you,  my 
child — vxod  bless  you  !  I  knew  it — I  knew  you  wouldn’t 
■ — no — let  me  look  at  you — yes — it  is  you  ! 

Lit.  Tell  me,  how  came  you  here,  in  town,  and  in  this 

house ? 

R  ur .  Tom  came  up  to  Parliament — you  know  he  is 
member  now  for  Ashbv. 

Lit.  [Aside.]  Ha  !  that  accounts,  then,  for  the  Eail’s 
warm  welcome — mistook  me  for  him. 

Rur,  So  I  accompanied  him  to  town. 

Lit.  And  he  is  in  this  house? 

Rur.  Yes,  he  is  dressing-  for  dinner.  I  heard  that  you 
were  here,  and  could  not  contain  myself — came  to  bring 
you  to  him ;  he  is  unaware  of  your  presence. 

Lit.  What,  creep  on  my  knees  to  his  purse  like  a  pro¬ 
digal  son  !  In  what  have  I  injured  him?  He  lias  my 
land,  T.  wrote  to  offer  to  sell  him  the  mortgages  he  held — 
he  refused  me. 

Rur.  The  same  wild  violent  spirit  he  always  had — just 
the  same,  ha!  ha!  Littleton,  listen  to  me,  my  dear  boy; 
Tom  loves  you,  you  don’t  know  him.  When  we  went  to 
your  chambers  this  morning — 

Lit.  You,  you!  [Aside.  ]  it  must  have  been  them  whom 
Bob  announced,  and  I  mistook — for  Scriven  and  Craft. 

Rur .  Tom  was  prepared  to  forgive  you. 

Lit.  Forgive  !  ’tis  I  who  claim  that  office.  [Crosses,  l. 

Rur.  Ha  !  he  !  there  he  flies  out  again — the  dear  boy  ! 

Lit.  Bet  him  ask  my  pardon  ! — I  entreat  you  will  not 
attempt  a  reconciliation  ;  it  would  only  sever  us  more  cer¬ 
tainly. 

Rur.  But  listen — my  darling  child,  listen — Tom  always 
meant  to  give  you  the  money  you  asked  for — [Aside.]  God 
forgive  me  !  [Aloud.]  see,  here  is  the  very,  very  sum — 
look — bless  you,  take  it !  [  Takes  out  a  pocket-kook. 

Lit.  How — and — [Aside.]  this  is  impossible — ha  !  I  see 
- — ’tis  the  old  man’s  own  savings  with  which  he  would  con- 
ceal  Tom’s  parsimony.  [Aloud. J  No,  no — not  a  farthing ! 
[Aside.]  how  can  I  refuse  it?  \ Aloud.]  It  comes  too  late. 

Rur.  Too  late  !  why  ?  [Aside.]  I  am  so  delighted  to  find 
at  last  some  use  for  these  things.  [Aloud.]  Here  comes 
Tom. 

Lit.  Do  not  attract  his  notice  to  me ;  let  me  manage 


SCL'NE  1.] 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


29 


this  meeting — the  Earl  supposes  we  arr’ved  together — 
hush  !  .  [iS/te  with  Rural ,  r. 

Enter  Lord  Pompion  and  Tom  Coke,  l.,  Lady  Pom- 
pion,  Rocket,  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  r.,  dressed  for 
dinner,  followed  at  a  distance  hy  Roebuck  and  Miss 
Rocket.  • 

Lord,  P.  Your  observations,  Mr.  Coke,  are  full  of  jus¬ 
tice  and  originality. 

Lady  A.  Hardly  adapted  for  the  House,  then,  my  lord 

Rock.  In  the  army,  Mr.  Coke? 

Tom.  Nay,  sir,  I’m  it  yeomanry,  if  that’ll  do,  though  a 
trust  I  shall  never  require  ta  know  ma  duty. 

Rock.  How,  sir,  you  are  nervous  ? 

Tom.  Nay,  not  so;  it  requires  courage  to  tak  the  life 
o’  an  enemy,  but  it  wants  more  than  that  to  be  called  on 
to  strike  at  the  heart  of  a  neighbour — I  confess,  I  look 
with  more  pity  than  pride  on  the  ranks  of  brave  fellows, 
marked  out  for  slaughter,  with  red  on  their  backs,  like  my 

Lord  P.  Necessity,  Mr.  Coke. 

Tom.  Not  the  less  sad  for  that,  my  lord. 

Rock.  Who  would  not  die  in  defence  of  such  a  city  as 
London  ?  How  did  it  strike  you  ? 

Tom.  As  big — but  not  enough  to  hold  the  evil  done  in’t. 

Lord  P.  But  you  admired  its  buildings  ? 

Tom.  Yes — Whitehall,  the  Nelson  Pillar,  the  Fire  Of¬ 
fices,  the  Duke  of  York’s  Pillar,  the  National  Galleries, 
and  the  triumphal  arches. 

Lord  P.  Ah,  sir,  an  immense  sum  they  cost. 

Tom.  But  what  puzzled  me  was,  no  one  seemed  to 
know  who  lived  in  anv  of  ’em. 

Jjord  A.  Why,  you  see — a — nobody  lives  in  them. 

Tom.  Then  I  have  no  hesitation  in  saying  “  nobody”  is 
the  best  housed  man  in  the  country. 

Lady  A.  (c.)  Surely,  sir,  you  consider  our  streets  are 
splendid  ? 

Tom.  Yres,  but  not  as  glorious  as  the  heaven  they  shut 
out.  Since  I  came  into  this  city  I  haven’t  seen  a  fair  inch 
of  blue  sky,  or  a  blade  of  green  grass.  Stop — I  did, 
though — yes,  I  did  see  a  puir  sickly  plot  penned  up  in  a 
place  they  called  a  square,  looking  as  if  they’d  put  nature 
in  a  noil nd  for  straying  into  town. 


30 


OLD  HEADS  ^ Act H 

Lady  A.  Ha!  ha!  sir,  yours  will  be  a  distinguished 
voice  in  the  house. 

Tom.  And  yours  is  the  most  musical  and  honest  ono 
I’ve  heard  since  I  left  Yorkshire. 

Lady  A.  Here’s  a  hand  belonging  to  it 
Lit.  [Aside.}  By  Heaven,  can  she  be  smitten  with  him 
already  ? 

Enter  Butler,  c. 

Tut.  Dinner,  my  lady. 

L  ord  P.  Colonel  Rocket,  her  ladyship— permit  me. 
[Leads  the  way ,  followed  by  Rocket  and  Lady  Po?n~ 
pion ,  c. 

Tom.  [  To  Lady  Alice.}  You’ll  favour  me. 

[  Offers  his  arm  to  her  on  her  l. 
Lit.  [Starting  up.}  Lady  Alice,  my  arm  is  at  your  set 
vice.  [  Offers  on  the  other  side 

Tom.  Ha  ! — it — it — must  be  ! 

Lady  A.  [Looking  surprisedly  from  one  to  the  other.} 
Your — brother,  I  believe. 

Tom.  Here — and  I — dom  it — I  canna  help  it!  [Affec¬ 
tionately.}  Yes,  it — is  my  brother. 

f  Offering  his  hand,  Littleton  bows  coldly. 
Lit.  I  fear,  your  ladyship,  they  wait  for  us — 

Lady  A.  [ Looking  with  reproof  on  him.}  T rue — they  do. 

[Takes  Tom's  arm  and,  goes  up  with  him. — Exeunt ,  c. 
Lit.  My  brother  and  my  rival !  be  it  so  ! 

Walks  violently  up  and  down ,  followed  by  Rural . 
Rur .  Don’t  be  violent,  my  dear  boy — 

Lit.  Yes — I  will  not  let  her  see  how  she  can  wound  me 
—and  him — ’twould  be  too  deeply  gratifying.  [Rural  takes 
his  arm.}  I  will  go — yes. 

Rur.  That’s  right. 

[Coke  takes  fierce  strides ,  Rural  running  to  keep  up 
with  him — he  sudderdy  stops. 

Lit,  Y  A  can  I  endure  without  betraya~ — I  must. 

[Exit  rapidly  with  Rural .  c. 


END  OF  ACT  II. 


Scene  LI 


AND  YOUNG  UK  A  IMS- 


6\ 


ACT  III. 

Scene  I, — The  Drawing-Room  in  Lady  Pomp-ion's  House 
Arch ,  c.,  drop  cried  and  surmounted  with  a  rich  Cornice , 
discovering  an  inner  Drawing-Room  with,  a  fireplace  in 
c.  f. — Fireplace  and  fire ,  r.  t.  e.,  Windows ,  r.  s.  e. 
and  L.,  dr  ay  cried  in  rich  crimson  damask  and  gilded  va 
lences. —  The  Room  is  decorated  in  white  and  gold ,  with 
a  bouquet  pattern ,  a  brilliant  chandelier ,  branches  be¬ 
tween  the  windows ,  divans  and  consols  r.,  l., 

mirrors  and  chandelier  in  the  inner  room . 

Lady  Alice  ?’.?  discovered  playing  at  a  Piano ,  l.  it.  e., 
Tom  Coke  leaning  over  it — Rural  is  seated ,  l.,  cw,  a 
prideux,  reading  a  pamphlet. — Lord  Pompion  ana 
Colonel  Rocket  are  walking  up  and  dozen,  from  l. 
to  r.  corner  of  the  inner  room ,  while  Lady  Pompion  is 
lying  on  a  sofia  opposite  the  fire ,  a  Servant  is  offering 
her  coffee  on  a  salver ,  while  another  Servant  waits  with 
liqueurs.  Littleton  Coke  is  playing  with  her  Spa  ¬ 
niel,  but  watching  Lady  Alice  and  Tom .  Roebuck 
and  Miss  Rocket  arc  seated  on  a  flirting  vis-a-vis,  pre 
tending  to  q lay  ecarte  on  a  small  ornamental  table. 

Rock.  My  opinion  is,  that  a  submarine  battery  is  attract¬ 
ed  to  the  keel  of  the  vessel,  and  exploded  by  concussion. 

Lord,  P.  Bless  me  !  had  Guy  Faux  lived  in  these  times, 
what  would  become  of  the  House  of  Peers? 

Rock.  Pooh  !  vote  me  a  hundred  thousand  pounds,  and 
i’ll  undertake  to  blow  up  both  houses. 

[  They  go  zip  conversing,  c, 

Roe.  I  propose. 

Kate.  1  won’t  let  you,  I’ve  a  beautiful  hand. 

Roe.  Pve  been  admiring  it.  [Plays. 

Kate.  1  take  your  heart.  [  Takes  a  trick. 

Roe.  I  wish  you  would  take  my  hand  with  it. 

\ Plays  his  last  card. 

Kate.  I  do,  the  game’s  mine  ; — what  were  we  playing 
for  ? 

Roe.  For  love — 

Kate.  Exactly — that  means  for  nothing. 

[They  flirt  aside. — Lord  Pompion  watches  them,  whiL 
Colonel  Rocket  joins  Lady  Alice. 


32 


OLD  HEADS 


'Act  III 


Rur.  [  To  Lady  Pompion.}  Your  ladyship,  may  I  entreat 
your  sympathy  and  beneficence  in  favour  of  a  subscription 
I  am  raising  for  a  poor  creature,  a  widow  with  eight  chil¬ 
dren  ? 

Lady  P .  Widows  never  appear  to  have  less — have  1 
seen  the  case  in  the  Morning  Post  ? 

Rur.  Not  that  1  am  aware  of. 

Lady  P.  Pray,  sir,  let  me  see  your  list — what  people 
of  importance  have  subscribed  ?  [  To  Coke .]  one  gets 
one’s  name  mixed  up  with  such  canaille  in  these  charities, 
f  To  Rural.}  In  whose  name,  sir,  is  it  raised,  pray  ? 

Rur.  In  that  of  the  most  bountiful  Dispenser  of  all 
Good. 

Lady  P.  All  !  sorry — we  are  not  acquainted. 

[  Turns  away  and  takes  coffee  from  Servant. 

Lord  P.  Colonel  Rocket,  a  word.  [  They  advance. 

Rock.  My  lord  i 

[Lord  P.  takes  him  into  it.  corner  and,  speaks  apart. 

Lady  A.  [To  Tom.}  Ha!  ha!  you  strange  creature— I 
declare  I  will  storm  Sykes  Hall  next  September. 

Lit.  [A  side. ]  This  is  done  to  torture  me — and  succeeds. 

Tom.  We  will  show  you  old  English  sports. 

Lady  A.  Suppose,  after  my  invasion,  I  should  deter¬ 
mine  to  occupy. 

Tom.  I’d  ask  no  better. 

Lit.  The  devil  !  [Nearly  chokes  the  Spaniel ,  who  howls . 

Lady  P.  Mr.  Coke,  my  poor  Bichon  !  [Snatches  it  up. 

Lit.  Really,  I — [Aside.}  Damn  the  dog!  [Coming 
down.}  I  can  suffer  this  agony  no  longer — although  she 
may  despise  my  want  of  pride  in  suing  her  after  my  ex¬ 
hibition  of  ill-temper — what  would  I  give  to  be  able  to  af¬ 
fect  her  indifference'?  No!  after  all  my  oaths  to  bring 
her  to  submission  first — Here  I  go  ! 

[Goes  up  and  joins  Lady  A. 

Lord  P.  [Aside  to  Rock.}  In  a  word,  Colonel  Rocket, 
your  attentions  are  thrown  away — My  dear  sir,  recollect 
— the  son  of  a  peer  1 

Rock.  My — daughter. 

Lord  P.  With  all  respect — I  have  ether  views  for  him, 
and,  excuse  my  candour — but  the  Pompions  came  over 
after  the  Battle  of  Hastings,  and  have  never  yet  mingled 
fvith  anything  but  Norman  blood. 


SCEPE  I.J 


AND  vquNG  HEARTS. 


33 


Rock.  Damn  it,  my  lord,  Kate  Rocket  need  not  look 
up  to  blood  royal — her  mother  was  the  Begum  of  Curry- 
pore.  princess  of  the  first  caste ;  she  was  the  only  one  ol 
her  family  my  guns  had  left  alive — I  took  her  in  a  brisk 
charge  after  she  had  shot  two  horses  under  me,  no  offence, 
my  lord — but  her  ladyship  don't  show  such  blood  as  that. 

Lord  P.  No  !  My  Countess  is  not  of  a  fusileer  family 
— pardon  me,  I  feel  my  honesty  is  almost  plebeian,  but 
should  your  daughter’s  name  suffer  by  contact  with  my 
son’s,  don’t  blame  him.  [Goes  up ,  r. 

Rock.  Blame  !  certainly  not,  I’ll  blow  his  brains  out  ! 
[Calls.}  Kate! 

Kate,  [P/scs.]  Colonel !  [Joins  him. 

Rock.  Aside.]  We  leave  this  house  to-morrow. 

Kate.  [Aside.]  To-morrow!  [Looks  at  Roebuck. 

Rock.  Orders  given,  no  appeal — duty — damme — ha  ! 
ha!  that  peer  is  as  proud  of — of  the  Norman  puddle  that 
stagnates  in  his  heart,  as  if  his  country  had  ever  seen  any  of 
it — ha  !  Battle  of  Hastings  !  ha  !  a  pretty  affair  that  must 
have  been,  when  there’s  no  mention  of  it  in  the  Army 
List!  ha!  damme  if  I  think  there  ever  was  such  a  battle. 

Roe.  To  Lord  P.,  who  has  been  speaking  aside  to  him.] 
Be  careful !  wherefore,  my  lord  ? 

Lord  P.  [To  Roebuck.]  I  have  discovered  that  all  the 
Government  interest  he  possesses  is  confined  to  3  per 
cent,  on  5000Z.,  and  he  is  no  more  an  East  India  Director 
than  my  valet.  Need  I  say  more  1  [Goes  up ,  c. 

[Littleton  leaves  Lady  Alice ,  who  has  been  devoting 
herself  to  Tom ,  and  advances. 

Lit.  ’Tis  useless.  I  have  yielded,  up  my  will,  soul,  and 
all  to  her — l  cannot  escape  her  torture — struggling  wounds 
me  more  than  patient  suffering.  Heaven — to  what  des¬ 
picable  slavery  can  manhood  be  reduced  ! 

Rur.  [Joining  him.]  My  dear  boy,  what’s  the  matter? 
why  do  you  look  so  darkly  at  Tom  ?  is  he  not  your  bro¬ 
ther  ? 

Lit.  Is  he  so  ? — why  then  has  he  crossed  me  tiv  ough 
life — has  he  not  devoured  my  inheritance — am  l  not  a 
beo-gar  ? 

O  O 

Rur.  No — not  while  a  roof  and  crust  are  n/ine.  Little¬ 
ton — listen  to  me — I  left  my  cure,  my  people  in  the  coun¬ 
try,  for  the  holy  purpose  of  uniting  you  again  :  1  entmed 
this  wilderness  to  bring  back  a  lost  sheep. 


34 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  111. 


Lit.  Then  you  should  have  come  unaccompanied  bv  tho 
wolf — I  care  not  to  avow  it — I  am  madly  in  love. 

f  Crosses ,  l. 

liter.  My  goodness  ! 

Lit.  Servilely — despicably — meanly — infatu ated — wil¬ 
ling — anxious  to  exchange  degrading  worship  for  contempt, 
to  return  blind  grcvelling  adoration  for  indifference  ! 

Rur .  The  dear  impetuous  boy. 

Lit.  Look  around  you,  and  judge  if  I  have  cause  for 
misery.  [Goes  up  and  seats  himself,  r. 

Rur.  Misery — cause — let  me  see  !  [Puts  on  his  specta¬ 
cles,  looks  round ,  sees  Roebuck  and  Miss  Rocket.]  Oh  !  oh  ! 
oh  !  there  it  is — well — poor  Littleton  !  perhaps  I  can  do 
something  here  !  it  may  not  be  hopeless. 

[  Tom  comes  down,  l. 

Tom.  ’Tis  my  opinion  there’s  honest  nature  in  that  girl, 
and  wholesome  feeling,  too — I’ll  wait,  and  see  if  it  be  his 
lordship’s  Burgundy,  or  my  reason,  that’s  at  work  upon 
my  heart — Minister  !  [Rural  advances ,  r. 

Rur.  Well,  Tom. 

Tom.  You  noticed  yon  blithe  lass,  I’m  thinking. 

Rur.  I  did,  Tom. 

Tom.  Do’t  again — I’m  not  clear  about  it ;  but  it’s  more 
than  likely  I’m  in  love. 

Rur.  Bless  me,  how  very  remarkable  ! 

Tom.  I  have  hesitated,  minister,  because  I  thought  Lit¬ 
tleton  did  seem  that  way  inclined. 

Rur.  Thank  heaven,  I  can  answer  no  to  that  ! — no, 
Tom,  he  is  in  love,  but  ’tis  there.  [Points  to  Miss  Rocket. 

Tom.  Ar’t  sure  ? 

Rur.  He  owned  it  to  me. 

Tom.  ’Tis  loike  him — to  drag  a  poor,  trusting,  loving 
girl  from  comfort  here — to  share  his  discontent. 

[Goes  up,  l. 

Rur.  I’m  determined — yes,  that  will  do — the  bequest 
left  me  by  the  father  of  these  boys,  I  have  never  thought 
of  till  this  moment — ’tis  not  a  fortune,  but  with  my  vicar¬ 
age — enough — enough — Littleton  shall  have  her — I — I 
will  provide  for  all — they  shall  come  to  me,  and  my  hap¬ 
piness  will  be  too  much — more  than  I  deserve  ;  then  Tom 
will  relent,  I  know  his  good  heart,  and  I  shall  be  blessed 
in  their  union  once  again ! — how  shall  I  begin  ? — 

[  Thinks  apart. 


Scene  I.] 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


35 


Enter  the  Groom  of  the  Chambers,  l.,  with  shawls . 

Serv.  The  carriage  waits,  my  lady. 

Lady  P.  I  bad  almost  forgotten  the  opera. 

Lord  P.  [Advancing  c.J  Mr.  Coke,  a  seat  in  our  box  is 
at  your  service.  [  To?n  crosses  to  Lady  P .  and  shawls  her, 
then  crosses  hack  to  Lady  Alice . 

Tom.  Oh,  too  happy,  [To  Lady  Alice,]  does  your  la¬ 
dyship  accompany  us  ? 

Lady  A.  I  don’t  mind,  though  I  have  a  box  of  my  own 
on  the  pit  tier— Russell,  have  they  sent  my  Brougham] 

Serv.  Not  yet,  my  lady. 

Lady  A.  Then,  I’ll  follow  you,  fori  hate  three  in  a 
chariot. 

Lady  P.  Charles,  dear,  do  take  Bichon  to  his  valet.  I 
i  iiink  he’s  sleepy. 

Lord  P.  Colonel,  shall  we  stroll  down  to  the  house  ? 

Rock.  Your  lordship’s  pardon — I’ve  an  appointment  at 

mv  club — the  Oriental. 

•/ 

Lady  A.  Here,  one  of  you  men,  run  and  see  if  my 
carriage  is  come.  [To  Littleton.]  You’ll  do,  and  ask  my 
footman  if  the  lorgnette  is  in  the  pocket.  There,  do  go, 
run.  [Exit  Littleton  Coke,  l.]  Colonel,  [Taking  Rocket's 
arm,\  suppose  you  propose  me  at  the  Oriental? 

Rock.  Would  you  not  prefer  being  a  member  of  the 
Jockey  Club  ? 

Lady  A.  No;  I  could  amuse  myself  with  your  old 
drolls,  but  nothing  appears  to  me  so  slow  as  your  soi-disant 
fast  man.  Come,  do  propose  me. 

Rock.  You  would  kill  us  all  off  with  laughing  in  a  week. 

Lady  A.  Do,  now  ! 

Rock.  No,  no.  [Exeunt  talking ,  l.  Lady  Pompion  and, 
Tom  go  out ,  l.,  Rate,  following  Roebuck ,  with  dog  shawled 
up,  is  going,  r. 

Roe.  [Propping  the  dog.]  Miss  Rocket,  one  word. 

Rate.  Don’t  detain  me  ! — [Aside.]  I  must  let  him  know 
how  valuable  his  time  is,  or  he  will  let  me  go. — [Aloud.] 
Let  me  say  farewell,  my  father  leaves  town  to-morrow. 

Roe.  To-morrow  ! — then  there  is  no  time  for  delicacy. 

Rate.  Not  a  mom — that  is,  I  mean,  let  me  go— how  I 
tremble — 

Roe.  Lean  on  me  ! 


36 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  Ill 


\ 


Kate.  Thank  you.  I  am  so  faint — 

•/ 

Roe.  Do,  if  we  are  discovered  ! 

Kate.  I  will.  What  am  I  saying? 

Ru? .  [ Aside — coming  down ,  it.j  How  ve  y  extraordina¬ 
ry — here’s  more  love.  It.  appears  to  me  that  the  young 
people  in  this  house  don’t  do  anything  else. 

Roe.  [  While  Miss  Packet  hides  her  face  in  her  hands .] 
Kate — dear  Kate — need  words  pass  between  us,  doesn't 
this  speak  for  itself]  Your  father’s  tyranny  will  defeat  it¬ 
self,  and  excuse  this  precipitation  of  an  avowal. 

Kate.  My  father’s  tyranny  ! — you  mean  that  of  the  se¬ 
vere  and  haughty  earl. 

Roe.  No,  dearest,  fear  nothing  from  him — I  am  his  son, 
,f1’s  true,  and,  as  such,  will  yield  him  the  obedience  1 
ought.  But.  ’tis  to  my  children,  not  to  my  father,  that  I 
am  answerable  for  the  choice  of  my  heart — I  claim,  there¬ 
fore,  my  freedom  and  your  hand — assure  me  that  I  have 
won  it. 

Kate.  Spare  me  a  reply — but,  my  father — 

Roe.  On  what  pretext  can  he  withhold  his  consent? 

Kate.  On  the  earl’s  dislike  to  our  union. 

Roe.  Ha  !  I  see — my  father  has  already  spoken  to  the 
colonel — that  accounts  for  his  sudden  departure. 

Kate.  I  fear  so — but  don’t  mind  papa,  he’s  nobody- — 

Roe.  How — are  not  his  orders  peremptory  ? 

Kate.  Yes — so  is  his  obedience — he’s  a  dear,  noisy  old 
man — the  worst-tempered,  best-hearted  creature  in  the 
wrorld  ;  lie’s  fond  of  reviewing,  so  I  let  him  burn  his  pow 
der,  and  then  I  march  him  home  again — ha !  ha  ! 

Roe.  I  took  him  for  a  tyrant. 

Kate.  He  ?  why  he  has  the  heart  of  a  woman — when 
my  mother  died,  before  I  wras  two  years  old,  I’ve  heard 
that  he  would  watch  me  like  a  nurse — fearing  to  touch 
me,  but  envying  the  Ayeh  to  whom  I  was  confided. 

Roe.  But  you  had  some  female  relatives  ? 

Kate.  Not  one — nor  did  I  feel  their  absence.  I  felt 
myself,  as  our  mess-room  used  to  toast  me,  “  the  fair  co¬ 
lonel.”  Oh,  Charles,  you  will  love  him  so — could  you 
have  seen  him  as  I  have,  under  the  scorching  sun  of  In¬ 
dia,  pacing  along  the  ranks,  trying  to  inspect  the  men 
with  a  regulation  frown,  and  swearing  down  their  honest 


murmurs  of  “  bless 


his  old  wig  and  spurs,” 


’till,'  suffocated 


Scene  l.J 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


37 

with  their  benedictions,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  he’d  cry — 
“  Get  out  of  the  sun,  you  mutinous  rascals  !  Dismiss  ! — 
I’ll  flog  every  man  o f  you — march — God  bless  you,  boys.” 
Oh,  I  could  have  cried  with  pride. 

Roe.  And  when  you  leave  this,  where  do  you  go? 

Kate.  To  our  villa  at  Closeborough. 

Roe.  The  very  seat  which  I  was  to  represent ;  the  elec 
tion,  or  rather  the  nomination,  occurs  to-morrow. 

Kate.  Another  obstacle — my  father’s  politics 

Roe.  I  am  a  martyr  to  them — I  abdicate  the  honour  in 
favour  of  Littleton  Coke — but  have  you  no  excuse  by 
which  your  departure  might  be  retarded  ? 

Kate.  I — yes — my  father’s  gout  has  prevented  him 
lately  from  accompanying  me  in  my  daily  ride ;  he  has 
consented  to  allow  me  a  groom  of  my  own ;  I  have  not 
yet  selected  a — 

Roe.  A  groom  ?  A  moment — ha!  will  you  take  one  of 
my  recommendation?  one  in  whose  confidence  you  may 
rely  as  in  my  own. 

Kate.  What  do  you  mean? 

Roe .  Rely  on  me — I  mean  all  for  the  best. 

Kate.  I  have  no  will  but  yours. 

Roc.  My  angel !  [Krnes  her. 

Enter  Colonel  Rocket,  l. 

Roc k.  Hollo,  there — Kate — recover  arms — the  devil ! 

Kate.  My  father ! 

Rock.  You — you — you — here’s  mutiny!  and  you,  sir 
how  dare  you,  against  general  orders  ?  [Crosses  to  c. 

Roe.  Hush  !  my  father  ! — should  he  overhear. 

Rock.  Don’t  think  your  Norman  blood  will — 

Kate.  \  rr  ,7  (  Hush  !  I  entreat — the  Earl. 

Roe.  }  Tether,  {  We  ^  be  ruJned 

Rock.  [ Still  enraged ,  hut  under  his  breath .]  What  do  l 
care  whether  he  hears  or  not — I  hope  he  will — you  pair 
of  disaffected  mutineers.  [ Gradually  breaking  out.]  Don’t 
imagine  I  want  to  steal  a  recruit  from  your  family  into 
mine — because  I’d  see  it — 

Kate.  My  dear  father !  he’s  only  in  the  next  room. 

Roe.  The  Earl — for  Heaven’s  sake — 

Rock.  [Under  his  breath.]  Very  well,  then — don’t  Earl 
me— who’s  the  Earl  ? — you? — harkye,  sir,  [Kate  throws 


38 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  III 


her  arms  round  his  wci,]  you  may  have  come  over  after 
the  battle  of  Hastings — though  I  can’t  say  I  see  much 
glory  in  arriving  when  the  fight’s  done — but  I  can  count 
scars  for  every  branch  in  your  genealogical  tree — so  look 
ye,  if  you  think  there’s  any  ambuscade  here  to  catch  your 
lordship,  fall  back — your  retreat  is  still  open  ;  but  if  you 
try  a  surprise  on  my  baggage  here,  damme,  look  out  for 
a  warm  reception.  [Kate  stops  his  mouth  toith  a  kiss. 

Rur.  Don’t  be  alarmed,  Colonel,  I  heard  it  all. 

Roe.  [Aside.]  Ruin — ruin — nothing  can  prevent  this 
simple  old  fellow  from  committing  our  secret  with  my  fa 
ther. 

Rock.  You  hare  brought  on  a  twinge  of  the  gout,  you 
have,  you  graceless  baggage — then  what  do  you  care — 
you’d  run  off  with  the  first  fellow  whose  grandfather  came 
over  after  the  battle  of  Hastings,  and  leave  your  infirm 
old  father  with  nothing  to  swear  at  but  his  crutch.  If  I 
had  a  family  poodle  to  leave  my  money  to,  damme  I’d  cut 
you  off  with  a  rupee — give  me  a  kiss — I  would,  you — oh  ! 
— don’t  laugh  at  my  sufferings — oh  ! 

[  Exeunt ,  assisted  by  Miss  Rocket ,  l. 

Roe.  My  dear  old  friend,  one  word. — [Aside. — Brings 
Rural  forward,]  what  shall  I  say  ? — You  never  thought  1 
was  making  love  to  that  lady  ? 

Rur.  It  did  strike  me — but  if  not,  what  were  you  ma¬ 
king  ? 

Roe.  Why,  can’t  you  guess? 

Rur.  No  !  making  love  is  very  unlike  anything  else  I 
know  of. 

Roe.  You  are  right — I  was — but — but — not  on  my  own 
account. 

Rur.  Oh  ! 

Roc.  I  pressed  the  suit  for — for  a  friend — in  fact,  fot 
Coke. 

Rur.  For  Littleton? 

Rock.  [  Without ,  l.]  Don’t  tell  me — 

Kate.  [  Without ,  l.  No — but— 

Roc.  You  must  be  aware  that  I  am  destined  by  my  fa¬ 
ther  for  Lady  Alice — and— of  course — I — I  am  devoted 
to  her. 

Rur.  And  Littleton  was  jealous  of  you  !  generous 
young  man  !  how  he  will  repent  when  he  is  aware  of 


Scene  I.J 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


39 


his  unjust  suspicion  ;  I  know  my  dear  b  y  is  in  lovo  wiLh 
the  lady,  he  has  confessed  it  to  me. 

Roe .  [ Half  aside.]  The  devil  he  has  ! 

Rur.  Now,  leave  the  rest  to  me — 

Roe .  Oh  !  there’s  some  mistake  here. 

Rur  1  will  get  the  Colonel’s  consent — I’ll  do  it  at  once 
before  I  see  Littleton — not  a  word  to  him.  Let  me  sur¬ 
prise  him  with  it.  Oh,  Littleton  !  \Exit ,  l. 

Enter  Littleton  Core,  l.  c. 

Roc.  My  dear  fellow,  you  must  aid  me 

Lit.  In  what  ? 

Roe.  Old  Rocket  leaves  this  to-morrow,  taking  Kate 
with  him.  I  have  determined  to  accompany  them. 

Lit.  How  ? 

Roe.  The  lady  wants  a  groom. 

Lit.  You  never  mean  to  undertake  the  place. 

Roe.  When  I  have  removed  these  foreign  decorations 
from  my  chin  and  lips,  I’d  defy  the  eyes  of  Argus  to 
know  me. 

Enter  Servant,  l. 

Serv.  Mr.  Bribe,  sir,  wishes  to.  see  his  lordship. 

Roe.  Bribe,  the  devil — very  well,  Thomas.  \Exit  Ser¬ 
vant,  l.]  That’s  my  father’s  solicitor  and  parliamentary 
agent,  come  to  arrange  accounts  for  my  nomination. — 
What’s  to  be  done  ? 

Lit.  What’s  Bribe’s  fee  ? 

Roe.  A  thousand  pounds. 

Lit.  I’ll  offer  him  fifteen  hundred  to  go  down  on  my 
account. 

Roe.  But  is  it  practicable  ? — will  be  ? 

Lit.  Anything  is  practicable  to  a  lawyer  for  five  hun¬ 
dred  pounds.  But  we  must  find  some  one  to  represent  a 
partner  in  his  firm,  who  is  unknown  by  sight  to  your  fa¬ 
ther. 

Roe.  Crawl’s  the  man,  an  arrant  vote -broker. 

Lit.  Then  Crawl  shall  enjoy  an  honest  reputation  for  a 
day,  in  the  person  of  Bob. 

Roe.  Is  he  equal  to  it? 

Lit.  I’ll  back  him  with  odds  at  anything,  from  winning 
a  kitchen  wench,  to  a  speech  from  the  woolsack. 

Roe.  ITc  is  hero— where  shall  I  find  him? 


40 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  JI1 


Lit .  Have  you  any  spot  in  the  house  dedicated  espe 
cially  to  the  maids  ar.d  mischief]  if  so,  raise  your  voice 
in  that  quarter. 

Enter  Bob,  cautiously ,  l. 

Bob.  Sir!  sir !  \LooJcs  about. 

Lit.  Here  he  is. 

Bob.  I’ve  sent  your  adress  to  the  Closeborough  Inde - 
pendent ,  sir. 

Lit.  My  address  ! 

Bob.  To  the  free  and  enlightened  electors — you’ll  find 
it  sharp  and  undecided,  sir — I’ve  been  rather  abusive  in 
my  allusions  to  your  lordship,  but  one  cannot  be  political 
without  being  personal;  therefore,  when  1  refer  to  your 
lordship,  from  the  hustings  to-morrow,  as  only  falling  short 
of  aYool  by  being  born  a  knave,  and  the  disgrace  you 
are  to  the  aristocracy — [  To  Littleton .]  Oh,  sir,  I’ve  not 
read  the  debates  for  nothing. — [To  Roebuck .]  Your  lord- 
ship  will  understand  me  to  speak  professionally. 

Roe.  Why — you — you — 

Lit.  [ Crosses  to  Roebuck ,  and  aside.]  Never  mind,  wait 
till  I  can  afford  to  pay  him  his  wages,  I’ll  not  forget  you. 
[To  Bob.]  We  require  you  to  adopt  the  name  and  cha¬ 
racter  of  a  gentleman  who  is  expected  here,  and  to  per¬ 
sonate  him  before  Lord  Pompion  :  can  you  do  it  ] 

Bob.  That  depends  upon  whom  he  is. 

Roe.  Crawl,  the  attorney  and  agent. 

Bob.  [  To  Littleton.]  I  thought  you  spoke  of  a  gentle¬ 
man. 

Lit.  Nonsense,  sir;  can  you  play  the  attorney] 

Bob.  Facilis  descensus  averni,  as  Virgil  said,  when  you 
were  at  college,  sir.  I’ll  adopt  the  character,  b$t  I’m 
afraid  my  honesty  will  show  through  and  spoil  the  assump¬ 
tion. 

Lit.  No  fear  of  that.  Accompany  Lord  Charles,  he 
will  give  vou  instructions. 

Roe.  ’Tis  a  fearful  alternative,  but  there  is  no  time  to 
invent  ;  I’ll  despatch  Bribe  at  once.  [To  Bob.]  This  way. 
Gare  !  here  comes  the  widow  !  [ Exeunt ,  Roe.  Sf  Bob ,  r. 

Lie.  The  widow,  and  once  more  alone,  ha !  I  feel  that 
if  I  could  mask  my  impetuosity  for  a  moment,  I  might  at 
least  discover  my  position,  but  my  love  is  in  its  own  way, 
and— 


Scene  I.] 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


41 


Enter  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  l. 

[. Aside .]  Here  she  is. 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  I  thought  he  had  gone  without  me — 
ha  !  I  almost  believe  I  like  the  fool.  [Littleton  sits  and 
writes. ]  I  must  discover  why  these  brothers  do  not  speak. 
— I  was  thinking  of  trying  the  opera  for  an  hour,  Mr. 
Coke. 

Lit.  Not  a  bad  idea — [Writing,]  my  distracted  love  is 
too  perceptible — [Aloud, J  the  opera,  ay  !  [Aside,]  could 
she  have  refused  to  accompany  Tom  and  the  Countess,  to 
secure  a  tete-a-tete  with  me  ? — I  dare  not  hope  it. — [  Wri¬ 
ting.]  “In  the  fond  hope ” 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  Why,  I  do  believe  the  fellow  is  wri¬ 
ting  a  love  letter. 

Lit.  [Still  writing.]  “  Crisi” — yes — ah — eh — Ibegyoui 
pardon — you’ll  allow  me  to  ring  for  your  carriage. 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  So  he  thinks  he  is  sure  of  me — oh  ! 
yes — hang  his  smirking  self-sufficient  grin — that  letter  is 
to  me — now,  if  I  liked  him  less,  I  would  torture  him  till 
— why — lie  is  not  going  to  seal  it  ! 

Lit.  [Burning  the  wax.]  Lady  Alice,  I  remarked  a  mi¬ 
nute  signet  ring  on  your  lovely  hand:  will  you  favour  me 
with  it  for  an  instant  ? 

Lady  A.  Nonsense  ;  it  bears  the  motto,  “  L’amour  est.” 

Lit.  Love  defunct — excellent.  You  keep  it  to  seal  your 
death  warrant,  to  the  heart  of  a  discarded  lover.  [jScwZs 
the  letter.]  Spirituelle — ha!  [Kisses  the  ring,  and  returns 
it  to  her  finger,  hissing  her  hand. 

Lady  A.  Well — ahem — [Aside.]  He  does  not  give  it  to 
me — [Littleton  ionites,]  he  directs  it — really,  I — [Littleton 
extinguishes  the  taper  and  advances ,]  feel  very — oh,  hore 
he  comes — ha  !  he  was  too  nervous  to  speak — I — 

Lit.  Lady  Alice — 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  His  voice  trembles — ha! — [Littleton 
walks  round  her,  and  takes  up  a  shawl,]  he’s  swimming 
r^und  the  hook. 

Lit.  You  were  talking  of  the  opera —  [Crossing,  l. 

Lady  A.  [Aside. ]  The  float  sinks. 

Lit.  Allow  me,  before  you  go — 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  1  have  him  ! 

Lit.  To  sh?wl  you. 


42 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  III 


Jjady  A.  Sir! — [Aside.  He’s  off. 

Lit.  [ Folding  the  shawl. ]  Happy  shawl !— -Blest  cash 
mere  ! — why  was  I  not  born  amongst  you  to  be  continu 
ally  hugged  round  such  a  lovely  form  as  this.  [S kaiclinp 
her.]  Allow  me  to  ring  for  the  carriage. 

Lady  A.  [ Aside .]  Hang  the  fellow,  I’ll  have  that  letter 
if  I  die  for  it. — A  wa;m  correspondence  that  of  your’s,  ii 
I  may  judge  by -your  escaped  expression. 

Lit.  [Aside.}  Aha  !  ’tis  a  bite,  as  I  expected — now,  i’ll 
play  with  her  a  little. — Warm  !  oh,  yes;  and,  apropos,  you 
may  be  of  some  assistance  to  me. 

Lady  A.  Assistance  ! 

Lit.  Yes  ;  you  might  deliver  the  letter.  I  am  sure  the 
interest  you  took  in  me  this  morning,  will  excuse  the  con 
fidence  I  ask  vou  to  <rive  us. 

%f  O 

Lady  A.  Us  ! 

Lit.  Yes.  [Gives  the  letter .]  I’m  an  humble  aspirant 
to — 

Lady  A.  [Reading.}  Miss  Rocket  ! 

Lit.  You  seem  surprised. 

Lady  A.  Surprised !  and  the  lady — she  encourages  you  1 

Lit.  Look  at  me,  and  don’t  wound  my  feelings  by  rei¬ 
terating  the  question. 

Lady  A.  And  your — your — ha  !  ha  ! — your  protesta¬ 
tions  to  me — 

Lit .  Egad,  that’s  true.  I  forgot — oh,  don't  mistake  me 
— when  I  oiler  Miss  Rocket  my  hand,  allow  me  to  ex¬ 
press  at  the  same  time,  my  wild  adoration  of  your  lady 
ship  in  the  abstract — It’s  a  fearful  mania  of  mine. 

Lady  A.  Ha!  ha!  and  you  thought  I  reciprocated 
your  empty  expression  of— Oh  ! — [Aside!}  1  shall  choke  ! 
— Perhaps,  you  even  imagined  I  was  in  love  with  you. 
Lit.  I  did. 

Lady  A.  Disabuse  your  mind  of  it,  1  beg — you  flatter 
vourself ! 

Lit.  You  are  not  in  love  with  me? 

Lady  A.  Not  in  the  least.  [Crosses  to  l. 

Lit.  Ah,  true — how  could  one  expect  Heaven  to  endow 
you  with  beauty  and  sense  at  the  same  time. 

Lady  A.  And  do  you  imagine,  sir,  that  I  will  permit 
my  friend  to  remain  in  ignorance  of  your  treachery  ? 

Lit.  Quite  the  contrarv.  I  feel  convinced  you  will  in- 


Scenj;  I.] 


4ND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


43 


stantly  apprise  her  jf  the  fact — Oh  !  I  don’t  wish  to  take 
her  at  any  disadvantage — I  wish  to  owe  nothing  but  to 
the  unaided  dynamics  of  personal  appearance. 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  The  egregious  puppy—  my  heart 
should  disinherit  him — cut  him  olf  with  a  sigh — but  that  I 
feel  it  has  quitted  this  world  [  Touching  her  hearty  with¬ 
out  a  will. 

Lit.  [Aside.]  She  loves  me,  and  now  begins  to  feel  it 
~As  I  proceed  I  gain  more  confidence. — You  seem  rather 
animated  !  sorry  that  I’m  compelled  to  leave  you  alone  with 
your  feelings — excuse  the  imputation.  [ Eyeing  her.]  I  see 
you  possess  those  inconveniences  ;  they  impart  expres¬ 
sion,  and  are  amusing  enough  to  observe — but  must  be 
very  troublesome  in  their  manufacture. 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  I  would  esteem  this  man  a  brute,  but 
Twould  be  a  libel  upon  quadrupeds,  for  he  wants  their 
animation. 

Lit.  You  are  bored,  I  see — regret  I  can’t  amuse — pos¬ 
sessing  only  the  ability  to  be  amused.  Shall  I  ring  for 
your  dog  or  viy  brother  ? 

Lady  A.  Don’t  trouble  yourself!  were  I  inclined  to 
laugh  at  anything,  you  would  do,  very  well. — [Aside. ]  I 
could l  cry,  but  I  won’t. 

.Lit.  Farewell  !  I  tear  myself  away. — [Loohs  at  his 
watch.]  I’m  agonized  with  the  necessity,  but  I  see  the 
ballet  has  commenced,  and  I  would  not  miss  the  Truan- 
daise  for  a  thousand. 

[Lounges  up  and  out ,  c.,  humming  an  air. 

Lady  A.  Can  this  be  real  ? — what  need  I  care  ? — I’ll 
go  to  the  opera  and  find  fifty  lovers  there,  make  each 
commit  fifty  follies,  and  revenge  myself  on  the  sex. 

[Throws  herself  on  sofa. 

Enter  Rural,  l. 

R  ur.  What  a  fearful  mistake  I  had  nearly  committed — 
the  Earl  has  just  been  speaking  of  his  son’s  projected 
marriage  with  this  lady  ;  I  must  find  Tom,  and  tell  him 
so — poor  fellow  !  ’tis  well  he  nas  not  known  her  long 
enough  to  feel  her  loss.  But,  how  delighted  Littleton 
will  be  to  hear  that  his  suspicions  were  unfounded  ;  now, 
now,  1  can  conscientiously  promote  their  happiness. 

Lady  A.  [Apart.]  Yet,  his  fervour  was  so  natural.  I 


44 


OLD  HEADS 


[Air  III 

could  not  be  mistaken  in  his  honesty — he  does  love  me — 
on  my  life  lie  does. 

Rur.  [ Aside .]  I  must  get  some  assistance  in  my  plot, 
these  young  hearts  are  such  strange  things. — My  dear 
young  ady,  I  want  your  help  in  a  little  plot  of  mine  ;  you 
understand  these  matters  better  than  I  do,  and  will  assist 
me — Littleton  has  fallen  in  love. 

Rady  A .  [Aside.]  Bless  this  dear  old  man,  he’s  always, 
in  the  wroriff. — Ha  !  he  has  confessed  it  to  you,  then  ? 

Rur.  He  is  as  open-hearted  as  a  child  ;  but  you  will 
not  mention  it  ? 

Lady  A.  I  think  I  was  his  first  confidant,  sir. 

Rur.  Then,  you  will  join  me,  in  trying  to  reconcile 
these  dear  children,  and  recovering  to  my  affection,  my 
favourite — I  mean,  my  dearest  hope. 

Lady  A.  I  will. — [Aside.]  I  thought  it  was  affectation 
— but  I  am  too  happy  to  think  of  revenging  it.  Yes,  yes, 
yes,  my  dear,  dear  sir — I  will  be  all  you  wish — all  he 
wishes. 

Rur.  What  a  kind,  warm  heart  it  is. 

Lady  A.  Where  is  he? 

Rur .  I  dare  say,  like  young  folks — ha  !  he  has  stolen 
to  her. 

•  Lady  A.  To  her — who? 

Rur.  Miss  Rocket — bless  me,  are  you  ill  ? 

Lady  A.  Miss  Rocket !  Has  he  then — 

R.ur.  Confessed  to  me  his  love  for  her — yes — his  gro* 
veiling  adoration — servilely,  meanly,  despicably  infatua¬ 
ted — bless  his  impetuous  heart ! 

Lady  A.  And  Lord  Charles  ? — 

Rur.  Nobly  presses  his  suit. 

Lady  A.  I  cannot  believe  it. 

Rur  My  dear  child,  his  lordship  told  me  so  himself. 

Enter  Miss  Rocket,  l. 

Lady  A.  Kate — tell  me — are  you  deceiving  me  ? 

[ Crosses  to  Kate . 

Kate.  What  do  you  mean  ? 

Lady  A.  Mr.  Coke  is  in  love  with  you. 

Kate.  With  me  ! 

Lady  A.  He  has  been  confessing  it  all  over  the  house 
—to  me — to  him — to  Lord  Charles — 


Scene  I.1 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS 


45 


Kate .  Why,  it  can’t  be — what  means  Lord  Chailes’s  de¬ 
claration  to  me  ? 

Kur.  My  dear  young  lady,  he  means  nothing  to  you  : 
you  mistook  his  intentions — he  was  wooing  for  his  friend, 
wno  was  ridiculously  jealous  of  him — Lord  Charles  told 
me  just  now  that  he  was  betrothed  to  her  ladyship,  and 
devoted  to  her — the  earl  has  since  said  the  same  thing — 
therefore  it  must  be  true. 

Lady  A .  Kate  ! 

Kate.  Alice  ! 

Lady  A.  That  villain,  Charles,  wished  at  once  to  de¬ 
ceive  his  friend — destroy  you — and  cheat  me. 

Kate.  Destroy  me — oh,  Alice  !  [They  embrace. 

Kur.  Tears  !  what  strange  things  young  hearts  are. 

Enter  a  Servant,  l. 

Scrv.  Your  ladyship’s  carriage  waits. 

Lady  A.  Kate — be  a  woman —  [Crosses,  r. 

Rur,  She  is — she  is  a  woman — 

Lady  A.  These  pair  of  wretches  are  doubtless  in  the 
stalls  at  the  opera,  directing  a  lorgnette  battery  against  all 
the  beauty  in  the  house  ;  let  us  go  and  show  them  we 
can  be  as  heartless  as  they. 

[  Crosses  to  l.,  goes  to  toMe,  and  gets  an  opera-glass. 

Rur.  Yes — exactly — what  can  it  all  mean  ]  There  is 
nothing  so  puzzling  to  an  old  head,  as  a  young  heart. 

[Lady  Alice  takes  one  of  Rural's  arms ,  and  places  her 
opera-glass  in  his  hand. 

There  !  my  dear  child — don’t  w^eep.  [Is  going  to  apply 
her  handkerchief  to  her  eyes ,  when  Miss  Rocket  takes  the 
other  arm  and  checks  him.]  Well!  woman  is  a  wonderful 
and  mysterious  thing  !  *■ 

Lady  A.  Wretches — both. 

Rur.  Ah  ! 

Kate .  Villains ! 

Rur.  Yes — [Aside.]  I  wonder  what  they  mean,  and 
what  they  are  going  to  do  with  me? 

[Exeunt,  ladies  pulling  Rural  through  centre  doors. 

END  OF  ACT  HI. 


46 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  IV 


ACT  IV. 

Scene  I. —  The  same  as  Act  Jlh 

Enter  Colonel  Rocket,  c.,  with  a  newspaper. 

Rock .  Here’s  news !  A  copy  of  this  evening’s  Close* 
borough  Independent  has  been  despatched  to  me.  [Reads. 

**  We  gladly  issue  a  second  edition ,  to  give  the  earliest  pub - 
licity  to  the  following  address ,  which  reached  us  after  going 
to  press  : — 

“  To  the  Independent  Electors  of  Closeborough. 

“  Gentlemen — In  reply  to  a  requisition  from  a  numerous 
and  highly  respectable  body  of  your  townsmen ,  I  too  hap¬ 
pily  accede  to  your  wishes ,  and  shall  be  proud  to  represent 
your  opinions  in  Parliament ,  which  I  cannot  but  suppose 
are  violently  adverse  to  those  of  my  noble  friend  and  an¬ 
tagonist ,  Lord  Roebuck,  whose  character ,  speaking  public¬ 
ly ,  I  must  despise — but  whose  private  character,  generally, 
I  know  nothing  about . 

“  I  am,  gentlemen,  your  obedient  servant , 

“  Littleton  Coke.” 

Hurrah  !  now  I  can  show  fight !  now  I’ve  outflanked  his 
Norman  Lordship.  My  villa  at  Closeborough,  Ghuznee 
Lodge,  and  its  estate,  gives  me  the  influence  of  thirty 
votes — ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  I’ll  not  sleep  another  night  beneath 
this  noble  roof — I’ve  despatched  orders  to  Corporal  Stripe 
to  have  the  guard  out,  in  their  old  uniforms — my  travel¬ 
ling  carriage  will  be  here  in  two  hours — I’ll  canvass  the 
whole  town  before  breakfast.  Ho !  ho  !  damme,  I’ve  ne¬ 
ver  been  so  excited  since  Bhurtpore  ! 

Enter  Rural,  l.  c. 

Rur.  Had  I  been  the  first-born  of  Richelieu,  and  the 
favourite  pupil  of  Machiavel,  I  could  not  have  surround 
ed  myself  with  more  intrigues,  plots,  and  difficulties. 
Those  two  dear  girls  took  me  to  the  opera;  they  beguiled 
the  way,  by  crying  and  endeavouring  to  discover  which 
could  invent  the  worst  name  for  her  lover.  When  we 
arrived,  I  found  myself  amongst  soldiers  and  footmen 


Scene  I.] 


AND  yOUNG  HEARTS. 


47 


then  labrynths  and  lights  ;  then  in  a  little  closet  with  one 
wall  out,  apparently  for  the  admission  of  noise  and  glare 
I  was  astonished  into  the  place,  and  amazee!  out  of  it,  and 
thankful  I  am  to  get  here  again. — [Aside.]  Here’s  the 
Colonel — I’ll  venture  to — to  sound  him  about  his  consent 
to  the  marriage. — My  military  friend,  will  you  allow  me 
to  ask — has  Littleton  acquainted  you  with—  his  intentions  ? 

Rock.  No,  sir — I  wish  he  had — however,  accident  has 
revealed  them  to  me. 

Rur.  And  dare  he  hope  that  you  will  grant  your  con¬ 
sent  ? 

Rock.  Grant !  I’ll  secure  his  success.  He  shall  have 
lack  Rocket’s  interest,  sir. 

Rur.  Then  you  approve  of  his  offer  1  [Astonished. 

Rock.  I  could  not  have  selected  from  all  England  a 
finer  fellow — more  after  my  own  heart. 

R  ur.  He  is — he  is — 

Rock.  Noble  souled. 

R?ir.  Princely. 

Rock.  Honest,  free. — 

Rur.  God  bless  you  ! 

Rock.  No  stiff-backed  pretension — 

Rur.  What  a  kind  soul  vou  are. 

Rock.  I’ll  lay  a  thousand,  his  father  was  at  the  batthj 
of  Hastings.  , 

O 

Rur.  But,  your  daughter — 

Rock.  Kate!  ay — she’ll  go  with  hirr.,  heart  and  soul  1 
.  Rur.  She  will  ;  she  has  said  as  much. 

Rock.  Bless  her  heart,  it  always  says  right. 

Rur.  My  dear  benefactor,  don’t,  don’t  overcome  me 
with  gratitude  :  what  shall  I  say  or  do — may  I  run  and 
tell  Littleton  ? 

Rock.  Tell  the  rascal,  I’ll  never  forg  ve  him  not  coming 
to  me  at  first. 

Rur.  At  first,  ha  !  ha  ! 

Rock.  Tell  him,  my  carriage  is  at  his  service — my 
house  at  his  command. 

Rur.  Ha  !  ha  !  I  shall  do  something  very  foolish  foi 
joy  when  I  get  out! 

Rock.  Advise  him  to  lose  no  time  :  he  should  clinch  tho 
affair  before  breakfast  to-morrow. 

Rur.  To-mojrow  !  isn’t  that  rather,  rather  early,  eh  ? 


48 


OLD  HEADS 


rAcT  IV 


Rock.  "Too  late  sir — I  like  despatch, 

Rur.  But  the  ladv  ? 

Rock.  Kate!  pooh!  y(ju  don’t  know  the  girl,  she’ll 
spring  up  at  five  in  such  a  cause. 

Rur .  Bless  me  ! 

Ro;k.  No  more — I’m  off.  Remember  my  carriage  will 
be  at  the  door  in  two  hours,  let  him  use  it. 

Rur.  Use  it  to — 

Rock.  Not  a  word — orders  given — ho!  great  guns! 
this  is  glorious ! 

R,ur.  Miraculous  ! 

Rock.  I’m  in  the  saddle  again,  huzza!  [  Twinges.}  Oh! 
the  gout  ! — I’m  a  rusty  old  arquebuse,  only  fit  to  hangup 
foi  a  show  of  old  times;  but  no!  I’ll  be  charged  and 
primed,  and  damme  I’ll  go  off  once  more,  if  I’m  blown 
to  the  devil  for  it  ! — Hurrah  !  eh  !  ha  !  ha  !  hurrah. 

[  The  Colonel  shouts ,  becomes  excited ,  and,  exit ,  l.  Ru¬ 
ral,  very  excited,  joins  feebly  in  his  boisterous  shouts. 

Rur.  Hurrah  !  bless  me,  how  exciting  all  this  is  ; — ha  ! 
ha!  [lie  runs  about.]  I’m  inclined  to  do  something  very 
frantic — Huzza ! 

Enter  Lord  Pompion,  r.  c. 

Lord  P  My  dear  sir. — [Aside.]  What  is  the  old  man 
about  ] — Will  you  have  the  kindness  to  inform  Mr.  Coke — 

Rur.  Certainly,  in  two  hours — 

Lord  P.  I  mean  the  member,  sir;  that  I  would  be 
happy  to  see  him  here — 

Rur.  Before  breakfast — 

Lord  P.  On  parliamentary  business — 

Rur.  Of  course.  Tell  the  rascal  I’ll  nevei  forgive  him. 

Lord  P.  Mr.  Rural — will  you — 

Rur.  Spring  up  at  five  in  such  a  cause.  [Crosses  to  r. 

Lord  P.  He  is  possessed — 

Rur.  Great  guns  !  this  is  glorious!  Huirah  !  hurrah! 

[Exit  Rural ,  c. 

Enter  Servant,  l. 

Serv.  Mr.  Crawl,  my  lord. 

Lord  P.  Show  him  in.  [Exit  Servant ,  l.]  Charles  ir* 
forms  me  that  Bribe  sends  word  that  he  is  engaged 
against  us  by  the  opposing  candidate  ;  but  he  has  proved 
himself  a  trustworthy  fellow,  for  he  has  despatched  art 


Scene  I.] 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


4k 

intelligent  and  junior  partner  in  his  firm,  whom  He  feels 
Assured  will  carry  all  before  him.  We  must  do  some¬ 
thing  for  Bribe — fidelity  should  be  rewarded. 

Enter  Servant,  l. 

Serv.  Mr.  Crawl. 

Enter  Bob,  l.,  dressed  in  Hack. — Exit  Servant,  l. 

Lord  P.  Mr.  Crawl? 

Bob.  Of  the  firm  of  Bribe,  Crawl,  and  Treatcm. 

Lord  P.  Fame  speaks  highly  of  you,  Mr.  Crawl,  and 
parliament  has  its  eye  on  you.  Fortune  favoured  me, 
when,  twenty  years  ago,  I  selected  your  firm  for  my  soli¬ 
citors. 

Bob.  I  remember  the  era.  Its  date — I  think — is  on 
your  lordship’s  first  mortgage  to  us. 

Lord  P.  A  tenacious  memory — be  seated.  [Points  to 
chair.]  How  fortunate  for  us  that  Bribe  is  secured  to  our 
opposing  candidate. 

Bob.  He’  s  a  treasure — 

Lord  P.  So  are  you — 

Bob.  Oh,  I’m  a  mint,  my  lord,  a  perfect  mint — I’ll  coin 
you  votes  that  shall  pass  current  with  any  Committee  of 
the  House — I’ll  put  you  in  for  any  borough  in  Great  Bri¬ 
tain,  and  return  you  with  any  majority  you  may  please 
to  pay  for — I’ll  qualify  you  with  three  hundred  a-year, 
landed  property,  for  fifty  pounds,  and  show  more  voters 
in  your  interest  unpolled,  than  there  is  population  in  the 
county. 

Lord  P.  My  dear  Mr.  Crawl! 

Bob.  Oh,  my  Lord — that’s  nothing. 

Lord  P.  I  may  conclude  my  son  elected,  then  ? 

Bob.  Chaired — and  has  returned  thanks  ir  a  neat 
speech,  which  I  have  already  prepared. 

Lord  P.  Then  I  may  venture  to  dismiss  anx'ety  from 
my  mind — and  enter  on  other  topics. 

Bob.  [Aside.]  Other  topics — master  didn’t  prime  mo 
for  other  topics.  , 

Lord  P.  Fifteen  years  ago — 

Bob.  [Aside.]  Oh,  lord  ! 

Lord,  P.  It  may  be  in  your  tenacious  recollection  that 
1  confided  to  the  care  of  Mr.  Bribe,  a  boy. 

E 


50 


OLD  HEADS 


fA.-x  IV 


Bob .  Oh!  perfectly — a  perfect  child — a — a  mere — a — 
boy — a — oh,  I  perfectly — 

Lord  P.  The — the — son  of  an  old  and  valued  servant 

Bob.  Female? 

Lord  P.  No — my  butler. 

Bob.  Oh! 

Lord  P.  I  promised  to— to — protect — to  educate — my 
— I  mean,  his  child — and  confided  the  responsibility  to 
Bribe’s  charge. 

Bob.  [Aside. j  Oho  ! — the  Earl  has  been  a  gay  deceiver 
in  his  vouth — ahem  ! — not  much  of  the  Lothario  left  ! 

Lord  P.  I — I  left  England  shortly  after  this  occur- 

O  J 

rence,  as  ambassador  to  the  court  of  Lisbon — sincp  mv 

7  m 

return — business — a — 

Bob.  Of  course.  I  see. — Oh,  yes — I  know  the  boy — a 
fine  fellow  he  has  err  own — an  universal  favourite. 

O 

Lord  P.  Indeed ! 

Bob.  His  name  is  Robert,  but  we  call  him  Bob,  fami¬ 
liarly. 

Lord  P.  Yes,  yes. 

Bob.  I  do  assure  you,  there’s  no  one  for  whom  I  pos¬ 
sess  a  higher  esteem — whose  interest  I  have  more  at 
heart. 

Lord  P.  It  does  you  honour. 

Bob.  I  got  him  into  the  service  of  Mr.  Littleton  Coke. 

Lord  P.  Coke  !  what  a  strange  coincidence. 

Bob.  But,  to-day  he  has  obtained  the  situation  of  groom 
to  a  Miss  Rocket. 

Lord,  P.  Miss  Rocket !  why,  that  lady  is  now  in  this 
house. 

Bob.  Indeed  !  then  so  is  Bob. 

L/ord  P.  Could  I — I — see  him? 

Bob.  Of  course;  permit  me  to  ring.  [Rings  bell  on  l. 
table.\  By  the  way,  if  you  will  excuse  the  idea,  1  can't 
help  thinking  that  there  is  a  considerable  resemblance  be¬ 
tween  his  features  and  those  of  your  son — our  candidate. 

Lord  P.  Ha  !  ha  !  what  a  strange  notion. — [Aside. J 
Can  it  be  so  striking  as  to  betray  me  ?  . 

Enter  Servant,  l. 

Bob  Tell  Miss  Rocket’s  new  groom  to  step  up. 

[Exit  Servant,  l. 


Scene  I.J 


*ND  YOUNG  HKAPTS. 


51 


[Aside.]  So,  Lord  Charles,  you  roaster,  me  once,  now  I'll 
give  you  a  turn. 

Lord  P.  [Aside. ]  How  agitated  1  feel. 

Enter  Lord  Charles  dressed  as  a  groom ,  with  his  mous- 
tachios  and  heard  czct,  and  his  hair  cropped. 

Boh.  Step  forward,  young  man — my  lord,  this  is  Bob. 

Roe.  [Aside.]  My  father — the  devil —  [ Threatens  Boh. 

Lord  P.  [Aside. J  I  dare  not  look  at  him — 

Boh.  His  lordship  is  good  enough  to  take  an  interest 
in  you,  Bob — for  which  you  will  feel  duly  grateful — ahem 
— I've  no  doubt  that  he  will  even  do  something  handsome 
for  you — you  see  the  reward  of  virtue  : — I  promised  you, 
that  by  steady  and  persevering  conduct,  I  should  be  able 
to  give  you  a  turn  when  you  least  expected  it. 

Roe.  [Aside.]  Expected  it — the  fellow  is  roasting  me 
now  with  a  vengeance  ! 

Boh.  Do  you  hear  ? 

Roe.  1 — 1  heartily  thank  his  lordship. 

Lord  P.  [Aside.]  The  voice — the  Pompion  voice — 1 
could  swear  to  its  haughty  tones  amongst  a  million. — 
[Looks  at  him.]  Mercy  !  he  will  betray  me.  Blindness 
would  know  him  to  be  Charles’s  brother. 

Boh.  Bob,  are  you  ready  to  experience  his  lordship’s 
generosity  ? 

Lord  P.  Young  mail — I — take  some — little  interest  in 
your — Robert — I — [Checks  himself.]  Mr.  Crawl,  you  will 
expend  this  hundred  pounds  for  Robert’s  benefit. 

[Gives  money. 

Boh.  I  feel  it  as  a  gift  to  myself — every  shilling  of  it 
shall  be  conscientiously  spent  on  that  individual.  Bob, 
have  you  no  tongue  ]  mercy  on  me — no  gratitude — there 
you  stand — do  you  see,  sir,  ’tis  one  hundred  pounds — 
thank  his  lordship. 

Roe.  [Aside.]  Oh,  the  scoundrel  ! 

Boh.  Thank  him  on  your  knees,  sir. 

Roe.  [Bowing.]  Oh,  you — your — lordship — I — a- 
scarcely  know  how  to — [Aside.]  Damn  that  fellow’s  im¬ 
pudence. 

Lord  P.  Farewell,  Mr.  Crawl ;  you  will  let  me  hear  of 
this  young  man  from  time  to  time.  [Takes  a  last  look  at 
Roebuck  f'om  the  door. J  Fatal  image — poor  boy — Sarah 
Jane — oh,  memory!  \  Exit,  u.  c. 

v  L 


52 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  IV 


Roe.  [Sits  across  a  chair  and  look:  at  Boh ,  after  a  'pause. \ 
So,  sir  you  have  the  daring  impudence  not  only  to  ring 
me  up  for  your  special  amusement,  but  to  rob  my  father 
before  my  face. 

Boh .  Perquisites,  my  lord,  nothing  more  ;  besides,  if  1 
am  to  injure  my  character  by  adopting  that  of  a  lawyer 
for  half  an  hour — the  least  I  may  be  spared  is  the  lawful 
plunder  of  the  profession.  Consider  the  risk. 

Enter  Rural,  l.  c. 

Rur.  I  can’t  find  him  anywhere. 

Roc.  Mr.  Rural. 

Boh.  The  old  money-lender — he  has  dogged  us — the 
VdilifF  can’t  be  far  off — I  must  find  my  master. 

[Exit  Boh ,  cautiously ,  l.  c. 

Rur.  Why — surely — 

Roe.  [ Aside .]  He  detects  me — better  make  him  a  confi¬ 
dant,  or  he  may  betray  me. — Yes — yes — he — he — you 
look  surprised — this  dress — 

Rur.  But  where’s  all  this  ?  [  Touching  his  cliin. 

Roe.  Ha  !  sir!  my  judicious  compliment  to  the  court  of 
Versailles — hush  ! — 111  tell  you — it’s  a  freak — 

Rur.  Law  ! 

Roe.  Nothing  more — [Aside  to  Rural,]  you  see — 
[Aside.]  aid  me,  Mercury,  god  of  lies. — [Aloud.]  I  told 
you  I  was  assisting  Coke  to  the  hand  of  Miss  Rocket. 

Rur.  You  did — so  am  I. 

Roe.  They — they  are  off  to-night. 

.  j Rur.  I  know  it — ha  ! 

Roe.  The  deuce  you  do — well — I’m  going  to  ride  pos 
lillion,  that’s  all. 

Rur.  Going-  down  as  his  groom  ? 

Roe.  No  !  as  her’s — but  hush — I  implore — net  a  sylla¬ 
ble — could  I  but  find  Kate,  without  meeting  my  father — 
I  have  secured  the  servants.  [Goes  up,  c.,  an  l  off,  l. 

Rur.  Well,  I  had  heard  of  young  noblemen  turning 
coachmen — but  this  is  the  first  instance  of  one  turning 
groom — I — 

Re-enter  Lord  Pompion,  r.  c. 

Lord  P.  They  have  gone,  sir — the  persons  who  rvera 
hero  this  instant,  do  vou  know  have  they  left  the  house? 


Scene  I.J 


AND  VO  UNO  3  KARTS. 


53 


Rur.  You  saw  them  ? 

Lord  P.  Certainly  ! 

Rur,  [Aside.]  Oh  !  then  he  is  in  the  secret. — -You  know, 
then — you  are  aware — 

L  ord  P.  Of  what  ? 

Rur.  That  Miss  Rocket  has  got  another  groom. 

Lord  P.  Y — e — s. 

Rur.  A  new  character  for  your  rogue  of  a  son. 

Lord  P.  Ah  !  hush  !  [Seizes  his  arm ,  and  looks  round. 

Rur.  Eh  !  what’s  the  matter  1 

Tjord  P.  My  dear  sir,  you  have  gained,  I  know  not  by 
what  accident,  the  possession  of  a  secret  of  the  deepest 
importance. — Yes,  I  confess  it — the  person  who  is  now 
engaged  in  the  menial  capacity  you  mention,  is  my  son. 

Rur.  Of  course,  he  is — he  is  going  to,  ha  !  ha  !  ride 
postillion  ;  what  will  he  do  next  ? 

Lord  P.  You  will  conceal  this  secret  ? 

Rur.  If  you  desire  it,  certainly  ;  I  had  suspicions  that 
Miss  Rocket  was  in  love  with  him,  but — 

Lord  P.  Miss  Rocket  !  is  it  possible — my  dear,  dear 
sir,  you  transport  me — could  you  but  conclude  a  match 
between  them. 

Rur.  Good  gracious  ! 

Lord  P.  [Aside.]  Young  ladies  have  eloped  with  tlieii 
gi’ooms  before  now. 

Rur.  Why,  my  lord. 

Lord  P.  I  know — you  would  start  objections,  I  antici¬ 
pate  them.  Listen — should  this  desirable  event  take 
place,  it  may  be  politic  for  me  to  show  some  temper,  you 
mderstand — 

Rur.  Certainly  not. 

Lord  P.  To  be  angry — but  do  not  heed  it — ’twill  only 
*  oe  in  compliment  to  the  colonel,  and  to  conceal  my  rela¬ 
tionship — [ Crosses  to  l.]  Remember,  there’s  a  valuable 
benefice  in  my  gift :  it  is  just  vacant.  All  I  can  say  is — • 
consummate  my  hopes,  and  ask  me  for  what  you  will,  it 
shall  be  yours.  [Exit,  l. 

Rur .  But,  my  lord — Lady  Alice  what  can  this  mean— 
an  hour  ago  he  told  me  that  he  designed  Lord  Charles 
for  Lady  Hawthorn,  now  he  would  give  anything  to  see 
him  married  to  Miss  Rocket.  This  is  all  very  strange — • 
if  he  agree  to  the  match  between  his  son  and  her  lady- 
thin,  and  the  colonel  consent  to  Littleton’s  proposals,  and 


54 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  IV 


the  young  people  love  each  other — why  make  any  mys 
tery  ']  Ha  !  here  is  my  hoy — he  seems  annoyed — a — 

[ Scats  himself  c.,  and  watches ,  l. 

Elite r  Littleton  Coke,  l.,  he  walks  up  and  down  aftei 

a  pause. 

Eit.  I  don’t  think  there  was  a  fool  in  the  house  whom 
6lie  did  not  flirt  with  through  her  opera-glass.  Every  one 
noticed  it — she  swept  over  the  stalls,  smiling  at  every  ea¬ 
ger  eye  that  was  fixed  on  her — damme,  she  appears  inti¬ 
mate  with  the  whole  subscription — and  then  the  omnibus 
boxes — oh,  that  was  awful — why,  every  man  in  ’em  went 
round  into  her  box — they  went  by  two’s,  relieving  each 
other  every  five  minutes,  like  sentries  before  Whitehall. 
She  made  herself  the  focus  for  every  lorgnette  in  the  pit 
— and  not  content  with  that,  she  goes  round  into  Lady 
Pompion’s  box,  turns  her  back  full  upon  the  stage  and 
me,  and  flirts  with  Tom,  as  if  she  had  only  six  hours  to 
live.  I  was  obliged  to  groan  in  the  middle  of  one  of 
Grisi’s  finest  arias — and  nearly  got  turned  out. 

Rur .  (l.)  Littleton,  fortune  smiles  on  you — my  dear 
boy,  I  give  you  joy — she  is  yours. 

Lit.  (r.)  Is  she? 

Rur.  The  colonel  says,  his  carriage  and  house  are  at 
your  service,  and  that  the  affair  ought  to  be  settled  before 
breakfast  to-morrow. 

Lit.  [Asi de.]  In  all  this  excitement  I  had  almost  forgot¬ 
ten  my  election,  and  the  colonel — of  course  !  Roebuck 
told  me  he  was  violently  opposed  to  his  politics,  he  will 
aid  my  return — I’ll  accept  his  offer. 

Rur.  His  carriage  will  be  at  the  door  in  an  hour. 

Lit.  Then  it  shall  bear  me  from  this  fatal  scene  of  en¬ 
chantment,  and  you  will  accompany  me. 

Rur.  May  I— oh  !  what,  with  you  1  [Embracing  him. 

Lit.  Forgive  me,  if  in  my  moments  of  passion  I  have 
slighted  your  affection. 

Rur.  Slighted !  let  me  hear  any  one  say  you  slighted 
— my  dear  boy,  you  have  been  all  love,  and — let’s  go— 
[. Aside .]  I’ll  write  to  Tom  to  follow,  ha  !  ha! 

Enter  To.w  Coke  and  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  with  let • 

ters ,  laughing ,  l. 

Lit.  Ha!  they  follow  to  outrage  me  even  here.  I’ll  re¬ 
main.  [Retires  up ,  r. 


Scene  I.]  AND  YOUNG  HEARTS.  55 

Lady  A.  [c. —  To  Littleton  ]  Oh!  Mr.  Coke,  did  y</u 
hear  Lablache  in  the  finale?  La!  ha  ! 

Lit .  [. Aside .]  She  must  have  seen  me  leave  the  nouse  in 
disgust  before  it  ;  I  felt  every  eye  was  upon  me. 

Lady  A,  Ha!  ha!  he  was  too  droll  to  bear.  I  would 
not  hear  or  see  any  thing  after  that — ’twould  be  a  sacri- 
tege. 

Lit.  [Aside.]  She  can  be  amused,  too  ! 

Tom.  [Aside.]  She  loVes  me — I  felt  it — I  arn  too  full  of 
happiness  to  remain  unforgiving  :  my  heart  has  been 
knocking  against  my  will  all  day  long.  I  could  not  look 
at  him  wi’out  a  blush. — Brother  Littleton,  a  word  wi’  you. 

•f 

[Littleton  Coke  bows  aside ,  and  advances  a  little — 
Tom  hesitates. 

Lady  A.  [Aside  to  Rural.]  Go,  leave  them  to  me. 

Rur.  Bless  you,  angel  that  you  are — that  is —that  you 
will  be — -join  those  young  hearts  and  gain  an  old  man's 
last  prayers.  [Rur.  and  Lady  A.  retire  into  the  inner  room . 

Tom.  Brother,  a’m  not  goin  to  reproach  you,  but — but 
— no  matter  what  you’ve  been — forgive  and  forget.  Lit¬ 
tleton,  we  are  brothers — flesh  and  blood  do  tingle  against 
our  parting  this  way — you  are  my  father’s  son — the  child 
of  my  mother — don’t  look  from  me,  brother  Littleton — 
because  there  are  tears  in  ma  eyes  that  a’m  not  ashamed 
of — you  tremble — so  do  I — ’ave  got  my  hand  out,  though 

vou  don’t  see  it — voudl  take  it? 

«  •/ 

Lit.  This  charity  seems  straimelv  sudden — to  what  do 
1  owe  it.  ? 

Tom.  (l.)  To  her. 

Lit.  Lady  Alice  ! 

Lady  A.  Well !  j  Coming  down ,  c. 

Lit.  [r. — Aside.]  She  loves  him. 

Lady  A.  I’ve  taken  a  fancy  to  see  you  two  shake 
hands  :  whoever  begins  shall  be  rewarded  with  my  waist 
for  the  first  polka  at  Rochester  House  to-night ;  do  you 
hear,  you  statue?  [She  goes  to  Littleton,  who  is  standing, 
n.,  with  his  back  towards  his  brother  Tom. J  Come,  give 
me  your  hand. 

Lit.  His  hand  will  suffice  your  ladyship  for  the  present. 

Lady  A.  [Aside.]  Aha!  have  I  reduced  you  to  submis¬ 
sion  ?  now  I’ll  try  on  him  if  I  have  learned,  by  heart,  the 
lesson  he  taught  me  an  hour  ago.  [Aloud  to  Torn.]  Will 


6b 


OLD  HEADS 


[Acr  JV 


you  favour  me  with  a  moment’s  tvtc-a-telc  with  this  amu« 
sing  creature  ? 

Tom.  You  command  me.  [Exit,  c. 

Lit.  Will  your  ladyship  excuse  me? 

Lady  A.  No — I  want  you — don't  go,  I  beg. 

Lit.  [Aside.]  She  entreats — she  repents. 

[He  pauses,  she  draws  out  a  letter . 
She  takes  a  letter  from  her  breast — ’tis  to  me.  [She  opens 
it .]  No — she  opens  it — she  reads  it — [ She  sighs,]  she  ia 
affected — what  can  it  mean  ? 

Lady  A.  Mr.  Coke — I — I  hurt  my  hand  this  evening, 
and  am  unable  to  write — would  you  have  the  kindness  to 
answer,  for  me,  this  letter,  and  write  as  I  tell  you  ? 

Lit.  Write  as  ! — [Aside.]  What  does  she — perhaps  ’tis 
from  Tom — it  is — I — 

Lady  A.  [Having  settled  the  writing  materials  for  him.] 
Pray  be  seated.  [He  sits.]  Now,  will  you  promise  me  to 
write  as  I  tell  you  ? 

Lit.  [Aside.]  She  smiles,  ah  !  —  [Aloud.]  I’ll  swear  it. 

Lady  A.  “My  dear” — let’s  see — yes — “dear  sir” — 

Ijit.  Two  adjectives  ? 

Lady  A.  Ye — s  !  “  If  [Reading  letter ,]  fondest  hopes” 
- — poor  fellow  ! — “  if  you  imagine  my  treatment  of  you  to 
be  cruel” — 

Lit.  [Aside. J  Damme,  if  she  isn’t  making  me  w.i  e  a 
love  letter  to  somebody ;  oh,  that’s  too  good  ! 

[Rises  and  throws  dozen  pen. 

Lady  A.  Bad  pen?  don’t  stir,  here’s  another.  [Offers  a 
pen,  he  looks  at  her,  and  sneaks  hack.]  “  You  will  forgive 
me,  your  letter  now  before  me,  so  full  of  deep  affection” — 
[Reads  letter,]  mad  affection — ah! — ‘  has  touched  me  to 
the  heart.” 

Lit.  If  I  write  that,  may  I — 

Lady  A.  Y(*ur  promise,  sir  ! 

Lit.  Go  on — your  ladyship  is  very  kind — proceed. 

Ijady  A.  “  Let  me  confess,  that  I  am  at  this  moment 
inflicting  upon  you  a  torture,  which,  although  you  deserve. 
I  am  too  feeling  to  continue.  Rather  than  see  you  suffer 
longer,  let  me  own  myself,  for  ever,  your’s.” 

Lit.  Is  there  any  more  ? 

Lady  A.  Yes,  the  direction. 

Lit.  Ha  !  who’s  the  inf — gentleman  ? 


Sc  ENK  1.] 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


57 


Lady  A.  “  To  Littleton  Coke,  Esq.” 

Lit .  [Starting  up.]  Myself — could  you — 

Lady  A.  Ha!  ha!  ha  !  [Crosses  to  r. 

Lit .  That  letter — 

Lady  A .  Take  it. 

Lit .  Blank  ! — ha  1  my  own  to  Miss  RockeC 

jLariy  A.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Lit.  And  you  love  me  ? 

Lady  A.  Let  me  sign  that  letter. 

Lit.  Which  ? — a — this — oh  !  yes,  true. 

Lady  A.  [Looking  over  it. J  Why,  it’s  blank,  too :  you 
did  not  write  a  line,  then  ] 

Lit.  Not  a  syllable  ;  and  for  such  a  document  I  would 
nave  given  my  life  ;  stop,  we’ll  begin  again. 

Lady  A.  No,  no!  had  you  kept  your  promise,  you 
would  now  have  possessed  mine  to  be  for  ever  yours. 

[Goes  to  table,  l.,  and  sits ,  ready  to  write. 

Lit.  I  won’t  occupy  you  long ;  we’ll  come  to  “  I’ll  be 
for  ever,  your’s”  at  once  ;  eh !  sign  a  new  lease  of  life  to 
me. 

Lady  A.  No,  leave  the  document  for  me  to  look  over. 

Lit.  While  suspense  is  making  me  feel  like  one  great 
pulse. 

Lady  A.  There  is  a  prescribed  time  to  wear  mourning 
for  a  husband,  and  a  certain  time  to  wear  reserve  to  a 
lover.  I  cannot  throw  it  off  so  early — think  how  short  is 
our  acquaintance. 

Lit.  But  how  much  can  be  done  in  it,  by  hearts  like 
ours ;  you  are  no  slave  to  society,  nor  am  I. 

[Embraces  her . 

Lady  A.  You  impetuous  wretch — release  me. 

Lit.  One  word,  then. 

Lady  A.  Hush  ! — some  one. 

« 

Enter  Bob,  l. 

Lit.  Bob ! 

Bob.  [Aside  to  him.]  Sir — sir — Craft’s — 

Lit.  Craft ! 

Bob.  On  the  premises,  saw  hiu-  myself,  and  dressed 
like  a  gentleman — so  he’s  serious,  and  means  to  have  you 
—get  out  of  the  house. 

Lit .  But  low  ] 


58 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  l\ 

Bob .  By  any  w ay  but  the  hall  door ;  it’s  old  Scrivei/s 
debt. 

Lit.  And  it’s  above  d£20.  Ruin  ! — in  twelve  hours  I  should 
nave  been  a  Member  of  Parliament,  and  free.  Bob  !  go 
to  the  top  of  the  staircase — watch — prevent  him  from 
coming  up,  by  any  means,  tumble  on  him,  pitch  hitr  over 
the  banisters  accidentally,  any  way.  [Bob  goes  out,  l, 

Lady  A.  Who  is  that  ? 

Lit.  A — a — my  agent ;  he  tells  me  that  I  must  start 
for  Closeborough  immediately — every  moment’s  delay  is 
an  agony  to  him. 

Lady  A.  Closeborough  ! 

Lit.  Yes — the  poll  takes  place  to-morrow.  I  must  be 
there  to-night. 

Lady  A.  An  election  without  me — that’s  enough  to 
unseat  the  candidate — and  only  a  few  miles  from  town, 
too. 

Lit.  ’Tis  not  too  late — with  your  voice  in  my  favour. 

Lady  A.  Oh,  if  I  could  but  escape  !  the  Earl  considers 
me  bound  to  canvass  for  you,  Charles — ha  !  ha  !  fancy  me 
stealing  a  march  on  Pompey,  turning  Closeborough  into 
a  modern  Pharsalia,  to  run  away,  like  Cleopatra,  when 
the  battle  began,  and  leave  Pompey  in  the  minority.  Ha  ! 
ha  !  ha ! 

Lit.  Not  run  away,  only  desert  to  the  enemy. 

Lady  A.  That’s  true — I’ll  do  it — consider  yourself  M 
P.  for  Closeborough — ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  I’ll  be  off  at  once. 

Lit.  Hark  !  your  carriage  is  driving  round  into  the 
stables. 

Lady  A .  Let  the  horses  be  kept  in  it;  I  shall  be  ready 
before  the  earl  can  return. 

Lit.  Can  you  afford  Mr.  Rural  a  seat? 

Lady  A.  With  pleasure. 

Lit .  And  me  ? 

Lady  A .  Impertinent ! — certainly  not. 

Lit.  Outside? 

Lady  A.  Don’t  dare  to  approach  me,  by  a  mile. 

Lit.  But  you  go  to  Ghuznee  Lodge,  where  l  am  invi¬ 
ted  also. 

Lady  A.  Then  you  must  occupy  the  village  inn,  while 
I  am  there.  Now  the  fellow  pouts  again  ;  listen  :  must  1 
not  preserve  my  reputation  intact,  even  from  you,  before 


SCEJTE  I.J 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS 


59 


marriage,  or  you  may  call  it  in  question  with  yourself  af¬ 
ter  it]  Send  to  me  your  dear  old  friend — good  bye. 

Lit.  But  stop  one  moment,  this  letter — 

Lady  A.  Well  ] 

Lit.  ’Twas  written  and  directed,  but  unsealed — 

Lady  A.  You  want  my  ring  again — love  defunct. 

Lit.  No,  I’m  alive — thus  [Kisses  her  hand,]  Paradise  is 
regained.  (Exit  Lady  Alice,  c.]  She  loves  me,  there  is 
£ot  the  slightest  doubt  on  the  point — I  am  beloved  by  an 
angel  and  five  thousand  a 'year — do  I  remember  awaking 
this  morning  ] 

Enter  Roebuck,  in  a  postillion's  jacket  and  cap ,  l. 
Charles  ! — what’s  this  ] 

Roe.  Old  Rocket’s  carriage  has  just  driven  up  to  the 
door — a  thought  struck  me — I’ll  use  it  to  elope  with  his 
daughter. 

Lit.  Where  to] 

Roe.  To  Closeborough  ;  I  have  not  the  courage  to  ar¬ 
gue  with  my  father,  or  with  her’s.  I’ll  make  a  demon¬ 
stration — I’ll  ask  Lady  Alice  to  accompany  her;  for  form’s 
sake  I  shall  leave  her  at  the  Lodge,  and  to  preserve  the 
reputation  I  prize  beyond  my  own.  I  will  not  compro¬ 
mise  it  by  showing  myself  to  the  servants,  but,  without 
dismounting,  return  to  the  Rocket  Anns,  in  the  village. 

Lit.  You’re  five  minutes  too  late  :  she’s  engaged  to  me 
on  the  same  road. 

Roe.  To  elope  ] 

Lit.  Very  near — own  brother  to  the  fact. 

Roe.  Ha  !  ha  !  you’re  jealous  of  my  speed  in  love — 
you’re  distanced— look,  this  is  a  suit  of  our  family  livery  : 
[’ll  rattle  down  to  Ghuznee  Lodge  in  two  hours  and  forty 
minutes. 

Enter  Bon,  l. 

Lit.  [ Crosses  to  Bob.]  Run  down  to  the  stables,  and 
slip  a  saddle  on  the  near-horse  in  the  Brougham  fly. — 
j  Exit  Boby  l.]  All  right.  Lady  Alice  is  going  down  on 
my  interest  with  Rural — she  refused  me  a  seat  inside  her 
carriage  :  damme,  I’ll  take  one  outside  her  horse,  and  give 
Craft;  the  slip— this  is  glorious — where  is  the  livery  ?— in 
die  harness-room  ]  I  know — all  right. 


60 


OLD  II LADS 


[Act  IV 


Enter  Rural,  l.  c. 

My  dear  old  friend,  give  me  your  hand.  |  Shakes  it  vio * 
hntly .]  You  said  fortune  smiled  upon  me — a  mistake — 
she  roars — don’t  ask  me  to  explain — I  couldn’t.  There’s 
Roebuck — ask  him — he’s  in  his  senses — shall  I  survive 
it  ?  [  Runs  out ,  l.  Rural  approaches  Roebuck ,  who  is 
walking  hastily  up  and  dovm. 

Rur.  Tell  me,  what  does  it  mean  ? 

Roe.  It  means  rapture — success — madness. 

Rur.  Yes,  I  see  that — but — 

Roc.  You — you  take  Lady  Alice  down  to  her  carriage, 
and  mum — do  you  understand  ? 

Rur.  Not  quite  !  but  never  mind. 

Roe.  While  the  colonel’s  carriage  waits  below. 

Rur.  I  know  it  does,  for  his  lovely  daughter — yes. 

Roe.  [Aside. ^  Ha !  the  old  gentleman  is  deeper  than  I 
thought — he  sees  through  our  plot. — Then,  my  dear  sir, 
two  of  the  happiest  dogs  in  London,  will  whirl  down  two 
of  its  loveliest  denizens  to  Closeborough. 

Rur .  What  an  extraordinary  preface  to  marriage.  Had 
1  not  heard  of  its  approval  from  the  lips  of  the  old  gen¬ 
tleman,  I  should  have  considered  it  too  wonderful  to  bo 
correct. 

Enter  Bob,  l.,  breathlessly . 

Rob  It’s  all  ready,  sir;  saddled  complete. 

Roe.  To  your  conduct  is  confided  Miss  Rocket. 

Bob.  [ Aside. j  Oh  !  I  thought  it  was  an  elopement  my 
master  was  about. 

Roe.  Hush  !  she  is  here  ;  run  to  her  lady’s  maid,  and 
rxet  her  shawl ;  I’ll  not  give  hesitation  a  chance. 

Enter  Miss  Rocket,  l.  c. 

Bob .  [ Looking  off.\  Oh,  that’s  the  lady — well — he  has 
my  consent.  [Exit  Bob ,  l. 

Rur.  This  appears  very  strange. 

Roe.  My  dearest  Kate  ! 

Rate.  Charles  !  and  in  this  dress ! 

Roe.  Do  not  waste  our  precious  time  in  wonder;  I  will 
explain  it  presently. 

Kate.  I  have  suspected  you  unworthily,  wickedly,  but 
Alice  has  made  me  ashamed  of  my  folly;  lot  me  Buffer 
something  to  gain  your  paidon. 


Scene  I.] 


AND  YOUNG  HKAKTS. 


61 


Roe.  I  will.  Your  carriage  waits:  suffer  me  to  fly  will 
you. 

Kate.  Fly  ! 

Roe.  Only  to  your  own  house — ’Twill  be  enough  tc 
show  our  tyrants  that  their  opposition  would  be  vain, — 
Bob  will  conduct  you  to  your  carriage. 

Kate.  Bob  ! 

Roe.  Ha  !  oh  !  I  never.  Crawl,  Bob  Crawl — Alice  is 
going— 

Kate.  To  elope — 

Roe.  With  Coke. — [Aside.']  Nothing  convinces  a  wo 
man  or  a  judge  like  a  precedent. 

Kate.  1  dare  not — how — to — 

Roe.  I  will  waft  you  both  down  like  a  zephyr.  [  To 
Rural ,  who  is  coming  down ,  c.]  My  dear  sir,  join  your 
prayers  to  mine — she  refuses  to  go. 

Kate .  But  my  father  ? — 

Rur.  My  dear  young  lady,  if  that’s  all,  your  father  de¬ 
sires  it — commands  it — declares  that  the  affair  must  be 
settled  before  breakfast  to-morrow. 

Kate.  That’s  he — I  must  credit  you. 

Rur.  He  ordered  the  carriage — have  no  scruples — he 
assured  me  that  you  would  not. 

Kate.  Can  I  believe  my  ears  1 

Rur.  You  may;  it’s  extraordinary,  but  you  may. 

Re-enter  Bob,  with  the  shawl  and,  bonnet ,  l. 

Bob.  Here  they  are,  sir:  only  cost  me  a  kiss  and  a  few 
promises. 

Kate.  I’m  in  a  dream  ! 

Rur.  So  am  I  ! 

[Rural,  with  Kate  and  Roebuck ,  go  up  stage. 

Bob.  [Aside.]  The  old  money-lender  here,  and  on  suck 
a  job — ah  !  gets  his  bill  out  of  her  fortune.  I  must  make 
something.  Excellent !  a  paragraph  in  the  Morning  Post. 
Elopement  in  high  life — Littleton  Coke,  Esq.,  with  the 
great  heiress  and  lovely  daughter  of  Colonel  Rocket. 
Bilious  father — it’s  in  time  for  to-morrow’s  impression — 
they’ll  make  an  express  of  it.  Let’s  see,  I’ll  ask  a  small 
per  centage  on  the  magnitude  of  her  fortune — I’ll  try 
twenty  thousand  a-year.  I  may  get  five  pounds ;  besides; 
Twill  civilize  the  creditors. 


62 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  IV. 


Roe.  [ Coning  down .]  Be  assured,  dearest;  confide  in 
my  devoted  love,  and  farewell.  Enough — I  leave  her  to 
your  care ;  farewell,  dearest — now  for  the  saddle,  and 
I’m  off — hurra  for  the  road  !  [Exit,  l. 

Lit.  [Appealing  at  r.,  in  the  dress  of  a  postillion .j  Is 
she  ready  ? 

Bob.  Very  near,  sir:  all  right. 

Lit.  Make  haste  ! 

Bob.  That’s  for  you  to  do,  sir — 

hit.  True — I’ll  introduce  the  turnpikes  to  fourteen 
miles  an  hour.  [Exit,  l. 

Kate.  I  tremble — 

Rur.  So  do  I,  mv  dear  child. 

Enter  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  l.,  dressed. 

Lady  A.  Kate  ! 

Kate .  Alice ! 

Bob.  [Aside.]  Hollo  !  here’s — 

Lady  A.  What  does  this  mean  ? 

Rur.  Exactly — now — we’ll  have  it. 

Kate.  My  meaning,  I  believe,  is  yours. 

Lady  A.  1 — I — I’m — give  me  a  kiss,  Kate;  we  aie 
both  a  pair  of  fools,  dear. 

Rur.  Well,  ’tis  no  clearer  now — my  dear — he  waits. 

Bob.  [Aside.]  Extraordinary  express — another  elope¬ 
ment.  Lord  Charles  Roebuck  with  the  Lady  Alice  Haw¬ 
thorn.  Ten  pounds — 

Rur.  ’Tis  no  clearer  now.  [Lady  Alice  takes  his  arm. 

Bob.  This  way.  [Conducts  Miss  Rocket,  l.  Rural  goes 
up  with  Lady  Alice ,  l.  c. 

Rur.  I  wish  you — both — farewell. 

Kate.  [Going  with  Bob,  l.]  Alice,  what  will  become  of 
rue  I 

Lady  A.  You  will  get  married,  dear. 

Kate.  Farewell. 

Rur ,  I  wish  you  happy — farewell !  f Exeujii. 


END  OF  ACT  IVe 


Scene  I.J 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


63 


ACT  V . 

¥ 

Scene  I. — Ghuznee  Lodge. —  The  house  is  a  villa.  With 
an  Indian  character  apparently  forced  upon  it — the 
lawn  and  shrubberies  extend  out ,  c.  f.,  hrubberies ,  r. 
and  l.,  with  a  pagoda  summer-house ,  l.  3d  e. — a  broad 
carriage  entrance  leads  off, \  l — extreme  entrance — a  sen¬ 
try  box  is  discovered  c.,  in  a  bush .  Stripe  is  discover¬ 
ed  standing  in  c.  at  the  back ,  directing  a  field-glass 
down  the  avenue — a  Veteran,  in  Bombay  cavalry  uni¬ 
form,  walks  as  if  keeping  guard. 

Stripe.  No  signs  of  the  colonel,  yet  his  orders  were  for 
us  to  be  in  readiness  to  receive  him  at  two  this  morning, 
and  here’s  half-past  eleven — I’ve  despatched  Wilcox  with 
the  old  howitzer  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  to  give  us  a  sig¬ 
nal  ;  hollo !  whom  have  we  here  ]  good  light  cavalry 
figure. 

Enter  Littleton  Coke  down  the  avenue ,  l. 

Aid-de-camp  with  despatches  from  head-quarters,  perhaps. 

Lit.  I’ve  leftB  ob  addressing  the  free  and  independent 
electors  of  Closeborough  from  the  hustings.  [  Very  distant 
shouts ,  l.]  There’s  another  shout,  elicited  by  his  rhetoric. 
I  believe  the  rascal  has  compromised  me  with  every  opi¬ 
nion  on  the  political  creed ;  ’twas  useless  arguing  with 
him — he  said,  ’twas  no  good  in  losing  a  vote  for  a  mere 
promise — so,  damn  the  fellow,  if  he  didn’t  promise  every 
thing  to  everybody.  [ Distant  shouts ,  r.  u.  e.]  Whether  I 
am  whig,  tory,  or  radical,  will  puzzle  the  Times  to  disco¬ 
ver. 

Enter  Rural  from  the  house ,  r. 

Rur.  (l.)  My  dear  boy,  I  don’t  know  what’s  the  matter 
inside,  but  something  has  gone  wrong;  Lady  Hawthorn 
won’t  hear  a  word  from  me. 

Lit.  {Aside.}  She  has  discovered  n:y  disguise;  no  mat 
ter,  she  will  readily  forgive  it. 

Rur .  Just  now,  she  and  Miss  Rocket  flew  upon  mo  \ 
uut  all  they  could  6ay  was,  ‘‘Explain,  sir,  explain.” 

Lit.  And  you  ? 


64 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  V. 

Rur.  I — I  rail  away,  because,  yoi  see,  explain  was 
just  the  thing  I  couldn’t  do. 

Lit .  [Aside.]  He  is  in  the  dark  still :  ’twill  be  safer  to 
keep  him  so.  My  dear  old  friend,  ’tis  all  a  freak,  a — a — 

Rur.  Ah  !  ah !  come,  now,  you  are  at  some  of  your 
old  tricks — oh  !  oh  !  I  know  you  are  [ 

Lit.  We  have  planned  a  surprise,  by  which  the  old  co¬ 
lonel  and  the  earl  will  find  that  our  young  hearts  have 
outmanoeuvred  their  old  heads — but  ’tis  a  secret. 

Rur.  Oh,  let  me  into  it! 

Lit.  When  the  colonel  arrives,  and  discovers  Roebuck, 
he  may  storm  a  little. 

Rur.  What  for]  have  I  not  his  orders  that  you  should 
use  his  carriage  ] 

Lit.  You  will  never  mind  his  temper. 

Rur.  Not  a  bit,  ha!  ha  f 

Lit.  The  earl  may  possibly  be  annoyed— 

Rur.  Annoyed  ! — he’ll  be  enraged  ! — ha!  ha  ! — he  saiu 
he  would,  oho  !  and  you — now,  this  is  all  your  plot,  you 
rogue,  you  know  it  is,  isn’t  it  ? 

Lit.  It  is — but  hush  !  here  they  come — leave  us. 

Rur.  Oh,  you  wild,  mischievous  dog — oh,  just  what  you 
were,  when  you  played  me  those  tricks  in  the  poultry 
yard;  when,  ha!  ha!  you  tied  a  gosling  to  my  coat  tail 
and  when  I  walked  off,  the  gander  was  nearly  the  death 
of  me — oh  !  ha  !  ha  !  ha  !  you  villain  ! 

Lit.  But  go,  I  beseech. 

Rur .  [Going,  returns.]  And,  that  fifth  of  November 
too,  when — 

Lit.  I  remember,  there — 

Rur.  A  squib  in  my  snuff-box — oh,  you  little  rogue,  oh  ! 
bless  you  !  oh !  a  squib  in  my  snuff-box  ! 

[Exit  behind  house,  r.,  chuckling . 

Lit.  And  bless  you,  for  the  simplest,  kindest  soul  alive. 

[Littleton  goes  up,  r.  c. 

Enter  from  the  house,  r.,  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  with  a 

newspaper ,  and  Miss  Rocket,  followed  by  Roebuck. 

Roe.  But  hear  me. 

Lady  A.  Not  a  word — here’s  a  fine  catastrophe  to  your 
clever  intrigues  !  here’s  an  exposee — I  shouldn’t  wonder 
if  they  put  the  whole  affair  into  a  novel,  or  on  the  stage, 


Scene  I.J 


65 


AND., YOUNG  H KARTS. 

Fancy  my  follies  published  in  penny  numbers,  with  illus¬ 
trations  ;  or  your  blunders  enjoying  a  run  at  the  Hay- 
market.  Bah  ! — I  could  laugh  my  life  out  at  you  both,  if 
I  wasn’t  mad  with  rage. 

Lit.  But  my  dearest — 

Lady  A.  No,  sir,  you  have  precluded  the  possibility  of 
my  ever  being  so — 

Lit.  Charles,  what  does  this  mean  ] 

Roe.  Hang  me  if  I  know.  I  have  only  been  here  a 
few  minutes,  but  I  found  them  both  fulminating  over  that 
Post. 

Kate.  Do  you  pretend  ignorance,  my  lord  ? 

Lady  A.  Listen — you  precious  intriguers,  listen  : — 
[Reads.]  “  Express. — Elopement  in  high  life. — Enormous 
fortune  won  by  a  young  barrister. —  JVe  understand,  from 
the  best  authority ,  that  an  elopement  took  place  last  night 
from  the  opera.  The  imprudent  pair  are — Mr.  Littleton 
Coke,  of  gui  tarn  celebrity ,  and  the  great  heiress,  Miss  Rock¬ 
et — whose  fortune  is  said  to  exceed  20,000Z.  a-year.” 

Lit.  The  idiots — what  could  have  caused — 

Kate.  Go  on. 

Lady  A.  “  Second,  edition — extraordinary  express — ano¬ 
ther  elopement  in  high  life.  Last  night,  the  young  and  ec¬ 
centric  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  whose  meteoric  course  through 
the  fashionable  world  has  been  greeted  with  such  admira¬ 
tion,  eloped  from  Lord,  Pompion’s  house ,  with  her  cousin , 
Lord  Charles  Roebuck.  It  is  stated,  one  of  the  parties 
rode  postillion  ;  our  authority  omits  to  mention  which.11 

Lit.  The  dolts  :  by  what  mistake  could  this  have  hap¬ 
pened  ? 

Lady  A.  By  none. 

Roe.  How  ] 

Lady  A.  ’Tis  true. 

Roe.  fy  Lit.  How  !  true  ! 

Kate.  Quite. 

Lady  A.  \  ou  thought  to  outwit  me  and  the  old  peo 
pie — and  thus  you  set  about  it.  [To  Coke.]  The  lady,  be 
fore  whom  you  spurred  and  thrashed,  sir,  was  Miss  Rock¬ 
et  ;  [To  Roebuck,]  and  the  humble  individual  who  admired 
your  equitation  for  three  hours,  was  your  obliged  seivant 

Lit.  What !  and — I — Miss — and  he — vou — eh  ! 

Roe  Coke  ! 


66 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  V 


Lit.  I  didn’t — I —  [They  look  at  each  other  astonished ,. 

Roe.  Oh !  but  surely  this  mysterious  blunder  is  not  so 
aeriaus — it  can  be  mended  by — 

Lady  A.  What,  sir — when  all  London  know  that  mv 
cousin  ran  away  with — or  rather,  they  don’t  know  which 
of  us  ran  away  with  the  other — ah!  ycu  wretch!  and  in 
the  middle  of  the  night,  too — and — no — I  must  marry 
Charley  after  all!  [ Crosses  to  Roebuck ,  and  cries. 

Kate.  And  you — sir — you — 

Lit.  I  suppose  I  must  marry  you,  then,  after  all. 

Lady  A.  And  all  your  cunning  to  outwit  the  governors 
has  just  effected  their  purposes. 

Roe.  But  Kate — surely — you  will  not,  by  marrying 
him  to  save  your  character,  condemn  yourself  to  eternal 
misery  ? 

Lit.  [Crosses  to  Roebuck.]  Eternal  wh at,  sir?  let  me 
tell  you,  my  lord,  that  this  is  your  fault,  your  blunder — 
had  I  been  there,  1 — 

Roe.  Mine,  sir,  mine  ! 

Lit.  Yes,  your’s. 

Roe.  ’Tis  false,  sir.  - 

Lit.  False  !  very  well,  my  lord. 

Roe.  I  repeat,  sir,  that — 

Lit.  Enough,  the  word  suffices;  but  for  this  presence, 
I  feel  you  would  have  substituted  a  stronger  term,  but — 

[  They  speak  apart  as  they  go  up ,  R. 

Kate.  My  dear  Alice,  they  are  quarrelling. 

Lady  A.  No ! 

Kate.  They  are.  I’ve  seen  so  many  men  do  it — I  know 
it  in  a  minute — they’ll  fio;ht. 

Lady  A.  A  duel,  and  on  our  account!  no  more  is  re- 
auired  to  complete  our  destruction.  Mr.  Coke — Charles 
— will  you  listen?  [Lord  Roebuck  goes  up.]  There’s  no¬ 
thing  so  like  a  mad  bull  as  a  man  in  a  rage.  Charles — 
Mr.  Coke,  you  shall  not  quarrel ;  you  have  not  the  excuse 
of  a  long  dinner ;  will  you  hear  me  ? 

Roe.  I  repeat,  that  it  was  his  trusting  to  Mr.  Rural 
that  has  caused  this  dreadful  catastrophe — and  to  prove 
it,  1  will  find  him.  [Exit  into  house ,  r. 

Lit.  Rural,  could  it — it  is.  Oh,  my  folly  and  weakness  ! 
Why  did  I  entrust  so  dear  a  confidence  to  him  ?  he  must 
exonerate  me  from  this  fatal  blunder- — where  shall  [  find 


SCENE  I.] 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


6? 


him?  [Goes  up,  meets  Stripe ,  who  is  mossing — speaks  in 
dumb  show.  Stripe  j)oints  l.  Exit  Littleton  Coke ,  r 
and  Stripe,  l. 

Kate.  Alice,  dear,  what’s  to  be  done  ? 

Lady  A.  They  must  not  fight,  because  we  can’t  spare 
either  of  them. 

Kate.  But,  do  you — do  you  think,  dear,  we  shall  have 
to — to — exchange  them  ? 

Lady  A.  1  don’t  know,  love;  but  it’s  very  likely  ;  I  ne¬ 
ver  was  run  away  with  before  :  but,  I  believe,  people  in 
such  predicaments  always  do  marry,  dear,  if  they  can. — 
M  distant  gun.]  What’s  that  ? 

Enter  Stripe,  l. 

Stripe.  Ready,  guard,  the  Colonel  comes — that’s  the 
signal 

Kate.  Oh,  Alice,  I  dare  not  meet  him. 

Lady  A.  And  I  am  ashamed  ! 

Rock.  [Outside.]  Guard — 

Kate.  Here,  in  this  pagoda.  Quick  ! 

[  They  enter  the  pagoda ,  r. 

Enter  Colonel  Rocket,  l., followed  by  Tom  Coke,  Lord 

Pompion,  and  Lady  Pompion. 

Rock.  So!  good!  guard,  turn  in.  [Exeunt  the  men,  L.] 
Stripe  !  [  Crosses  to  r. 

Stripe.  Colonel ! 

Rock.  [  With  suppressed  rage.]  The  reports  ? 

Stripe.  Nothing,  sir,  particular,  till  past  two  this  morn¬ 
ing. 

Rock.  And  then — 

Stripe.  Two  carriages  arrived  half  an  hour  apart. 

Rock.  Whom  did  they  contain  ? 

Stripe.  The  first,  Miss  Rocket,  and  an  old  gentleman, 
in  the  last,  only  a  lady. 

Lady  P .  My  niece !  I  knew  that  girl  #rould  come  tc 
some  shocking'  end. 

Tom.  But  she  was  alone. 

Stripe.  Alone  ! 

Tom .  [Aside.]  There’s  a  sovereign  for  you. 

Rock.  Stripe — dismiss.  [Stripe  salutes  and  exit ,  l 
They  all  look  at  each  other. 


68 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  V 


Torn.  [Aside.]  I  feel  as  if  my  heart  was  returned  to  my 
body.  [  Retires  up)  stage. 

Lord  P.  Calm  yourself,  my  dear  Colonel — observe  my 
imperturbability.  Your  daughter  has,  unfortunately, 
eloped  with  her  own  groom  ;  a  buzz — three  days’  amu 
sing  variations  of  the  story,  and  it  is  forgotten.  Perhaps 
you  will  be  kind  enough  to  tell  my  niece  that  we  await 
her  here. 

Rock.  As  for  the  rascally  footboy,  I’ll  kick  him  into 
Chodah — Kate  will  keep,  but  let  me  only  catch  that  old 
intriguer.  Excuse  me,  your  ladyship — till  I’ve  found 
him  I’m  not  fit  to  play  the  host.  [Goes  into  the  house ,  r. 

Lady  P.  Where  can  Charles  be  ? 

Lord  P.  I  heard  the  shouts  as  we  passed — perhaps 
they  are  chairing  him. 

Lady  P.  Mr.  Coke,  favour  me  with  your  arm — the  ex¬ 
citement  has  quite  unnerved  me. 

[  Tom  and  Lady  Pompion  go  up ,  and  into  the  house ,  r. 

Lord  P .  ’Tis  done — they  are  wedded — I’m  sure  of  it. 

Enter  Lord  Roebuck,  r. 

Poe.  Where  can  this  old — my  father! 

Lord  P.  Charles,  or  is  it  a — 

Roe.  Of  course,  my  lord,  you  have  discovered  all — if 
not,  I  am  not  in  the  vein  to  deceive  you  longer. 

Lord  P.  What  do  you  mean  ] 

Roe.  That  to  achieve  the  hopes  of  my  heart,  I  was  in 
duced  to  assume  the  disguise  in  which  we  met  last  night. 

Lord  P.  Then  you  were — 

Roe.  The  groom  to  Miss  Rocket. 

L  ord  P.  And  you  are — are  married  to  her 

Roc.  I — I — 

Lord  P.  Don’t  speak,  sir — I  know' — I’ve  been  duped, 
and  by  my  own  son.  Lord  Charles  !  what  excuse — what 
— what — Where’s  that  meddling  old  fellow  ?  This  is  his 

O 

doino: — his  work — I’ll  find  him — and  let  him  know  the 
consequences~of  thwarting  a  minister  of  state,  and  a  peer 
af  the  realm.  [Exit  Lord  Pxmpion  into  house ,  r. 

Roe.  And  I,  to  show  him  how  his  folly  has  severed  two 
young  hearts  for  ever.  [Exit  Roebuck  into  house ,  u. 

Enter  Rural,  at  the  back ,  r.  u.  e. 

Rut  Bless  me,  what  a  run  I’ve  had — joy  has  given  me 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


SCENK  I.] 


youth  again,  and  I  really  did  have  a  scamper — yes — but — 
[Staggers.}  Ah  !  these  old  limbs — these  old  limbs. 

[S//s  on  a  garden  chair ,  c 

Re-enter  Lord  Pompion  from  house ,  n. 

Lord  P.  Oh  ! — at  last — I  have  found  you,  sir  ! 

Colonel  Rocket  rushes  down  from  the  house ,  r. 

Rock .  Aha  !  Here  you  are,  are  you  ? 

Rur.  Yes,  my  dear  friends,  here  I  am. 

Rock.  Let  me  contain  myself,  and  respect  his  age  and 
his  profession.  Harkye,  sir,  are  you  not  ashamed  of  your¬ 
self? 

Rur .  [Aside.}  Oh,  here  come  the  reproaches. — Yes; — 
Ln  !  ha  ! — I  am — I  am. 

Lord  P.  To  connive  at  the  abduction  of  a  young  lady 
by  her  own  groom. 

Rur.  Ha  !  ha ! — [Aside.}  He  told  me  not  to  heed  his 
anger — that  he  would  assume  it  for  policy — 1  won’t. — 
[Aloud,  and  in  Lord  Pompion1  s face.}  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Lord  P.  And  by  what  authority  did  you  marry  my  son, 
sir  ? 

Rur.  [Aside.}  Ha!  ha  !  ha!  and  he  told  me  to  do  it — 
oh,  the  hypocrite. — [Aloud.}  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Rock.  I  respect  your  position,  sir,  but — 

Rur.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Lord  P.  Mr.  Rural,  this  is  indecent. 

Rur.  Ha!  ha!  ha!  ha!  [Retires  up ,  l.,  with  Lord  P 

Rock.  If  I  remain,  I  shall  forget  myself. 

Enter  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn,  Littleton  Coke,  Miss 

Rocket,  and  Roebuck,  r.  u.  e. 

Rur.  Aha  !  at  last,  they  are  here,  my  blest  ones,  and  I 
am  free — give  me  your  hands.  [Crosses  to  Roebuck. 

Roc.  When  you  have  severed  our  hearts  for  ever  ? 

Rur.  Eh  ? 

Kate.  Oh,  sir,  you  have  destroyed  the  only  hope  of  my 
existence. 

Rur.  What ! 

Lady  A.  What  could  have  actuated  you  to  such  a 
deed?  or  did  you  betray  us  to  the  Earl  and  the  Colonel, 
and  agree  to  compromise  us  into  obedience. 

Rur.  Bless  me — Littleton — 


70 


OLD  HEADS 


[Act  V 


Lit .  Do  not  look  to  me  for  help. 

Rur.  I — ah — [. Aside ,]  the  rascal  is  keeping  up  the  joke, 
because  the  old  people  are  here. 

Ijcidy  A.  Exonerate  yourself,  sir. 

Rur .  Ha  ! 

Roe .  What  excuse  can  you — 

Rur .  Ha !  ha  ! 

Kate.  You  could  not  have  mistaken-  - 

Rur.  Ha  1  ha  !  ha  ! 

Lit.  Can  you  not  see,  sir,  this  is  reality  ? 

Rur.  Ha!  ha! — [Chokes  a  laugh,]  ha! 

Lit.  Is  my  ruin  a  subject  for  your  mirth  ? 

Rur.  Ha  !  ha  !  [In  wonder ,  but  continuing  to  laugh. 

Lady  A.  It  is  inhuman! 

Rur.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Lit.  Or  have  you — yes,  her  suspicions  are  true,  and 
you  have  betrayed  me. 

Rur.  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! 

Lit .  And  over  such  a  deed,  you  can  laugh — farewell 
for  ever ! 

[Rural  bursts  into  a  paroxysm  of  hysterical  and,  con¬ 
vulsive  laughter ,  Lady  Alice  Hawthorn  runs  to  Ru¬ 
ral  on  one  side ,  Miss  Rocket  on  the  other ,  while 
Roebuck  and  Littleton  Coke  walk  up  and  down  on 
opposite  sides. 

Lady  A.  Don’t  weep,  it  was  no  fault  of  your’s — you 
would  have  aided  our  love  if  our  foolish  young  hearts 
had  not  puzzled  your  kind  old  head. 

Rur.  He’s  gone  !  he’s  gone  ! 

Lit.  No,  my  dear  friend,  [Littleton  goes  to  Rural  and 
embraces  him,]  pardon  my  cruelty  to  you  :  I  have  slighted 
your  affection,  [Looking  at  Lady  A.]  and  for  what? 

Rur.  Bless  my  heart  !  but  I  have  ruined  you. 

Lit.  No  ! 

Rur.  I  have,  I  know  I  have. — I  have  ruined  my  child 
--my — oh,  forgive  me,  will  you,  Littleton  ? 

Lit.  How  shall  I  forgive  myself;  come,  wt  will  leave 
this  place.  [Rural  gets  up  and,  clings  to  him.]  Ladv  Alice 
one  word,  before  I  go. 

Lady  A.  You  shall  not,  till  you  have  forgiven  me. 

Lit.  Forgiven  ! 

Kate.  Charles,  I  do  repent  my  cruelty. 


SCENt  I.] 


*ND  YOUNG  HEARTS 


71 


[Rural  goes  up  with  Littleton ,  lloehuchy  and  Miss 
Rocket ,  it.,  Colonel  Rocket  and  the  Karl  speak ,  it. 

Enter  Tom  Coke  from  the  house ,  it. 

Rock.  1  trust,  my  lord,  you  do  not  suspect  I  had  any 
hand  in  this  affair] 

Lord  P.  Let  us  make  the  best  of  it.  I  have  reasons 
for  wishing  that  the  particulars  should  not  be  investigated. 

Rock.  There,  Kate,  I  don’t  forgive  you  for  outflanking 
your  old  father;  but,  [Whispers,}  damme,  girl,  you’re 
right,  he’s  a  dashing  fellow. 

[Crosses' to  Kate ,  and  goes  up,  c. 

Tom.  May  I  beg  a  moment  of  your  ladyship’s  atten¬ 
tion  ? 

Lady  A.  Certainly.  [They  advance ,  the  rest  retire  a  little. 

Tom.  A’m — a — a  man  of  few  words,  and  I  don’t  think 
you  loike  me  less  for  being  honest.  A’ve  none  of  the 
ways  that  the  gay  young  fellows  about  town  cultivate  to 
win  women’s  hearts  with — because  I  never  in  my  life  in¬ 
tended  to  win  but  one,  and  I  meant  that  should  be  my 
wife’s. 

Lady  A.  I  believe  you. 

Tom.  A— -ahem. — [Aside.]  This  wants  more  than  ho¬ 
nesty,  I  find.  [Pauses — at  last  loud  and  bluntly.]  A’ve  two 
estates  in  Yorkshire — a’ve  twenty  coal  pits,  and  an  iron 
hole — a’ve — a’ve  four  thousand  honest  pounds  a-year  to 
spend,  and  a’ve  a  true  English  heart,  very  much  at  your 
ladyship’s  service — and  a’ve — a’ve — that’s  all — [A  pause,] 
coom — don’t  hesitate — be  honest,  as  I  am — say  yes — or 
— or — no. 

Lady  A.  Honestly — I  must  say — no. 

Tom.  Well — a — that — is — at — least — honest.  Yes — 
it  is — it  is — [lie  is  affected ,]  and  [Huskily,]  may  I  ask 
you  a  straightforward  question  ? 

Lady  A.  Yes. 

Tom.  Do  you  love  another? 

Lady  A.  I  do. 

Tom.  That’s  honest,  too — oh,  I  loike  it — and — ahem, 
that  other — 

Lady  A.  Is  your  brother. 

Tom.  Littleton  ? 

Lady  A.  Yes. 

Tom  Thmk  you — 1 — that  is— thank  you  [  She  retires ,i 


72 


OLI)  HEADS 


[Acr  V 


wi’  my  brother — wi — very  well — and — )es — I’ll  do’t — I 
— will — I  out.  [ Calls .]  Brother  Littleton.  [ Coke  advances 
it.]  You — love — a — that  lady  ? 

Lit.  Yes. 

Tom.  Am  not  surprised  at  it — and  a  suppose  you  kno\* 
that  she  loves  you — she  told  me  so — but  would  you,  foi 
her  sake,  quit  gay  London  1 — would  you  live  for  her  only  i 

Lit.  I  would,  and  will. 

Tom .  She’s  worthy  of  a  prince’s  throne.  Brother,  oh 
give  her,  then,  an  honest  heart,  love  her  as  I — as  she — 
loves  you,  ahem  !  [Pauses.]  I — Littleton,  here  is  every  pa¬ 
per  you  ever  signed  to  me  ;  ’ave  never  counted  them,  foi 
they  sickened  me  to  look  at.  A  brought  them  doon  here 
thinking  to  restore  them  to  you  on  my — but — no  matter, 
turn  a  foolish  vanity  and — [Becomes  abstracted ,  after  a 
pause ,  passes  his  hand  across  his  eyes,] — ’tis  past — take 
them,  Littleton,  take  back  my  father’s  gift — no — I’ll  buy 
no  brother’s  birthright  wi’  a  mess  of  pottage  ;  and  besides, 
it  wouldn’t  do  for  you  to  go  to  your  rich  wife  a  beggar, 
and — and — Littleton,  1 — [Chohedly  and  whispering.]  God 
bless  you  !  [ Shakes  his  hand. 

Lit .  Tom — brother — my  friends,  I — 

Tom.  [Seizing  his  hand.]  Hush  ! — h — [Points  to  the  pa¬ 
per,]  between  ourselves,  not  a  word,  not  even  to  minis¬ 
ter;  such  things  should  be  sacred,  as  our  mother’s  grave 
— not  a  word.  [They  go  up  affectionately. 

Lord  P.  I’ll  hear  no  more.  I  disapprove  of  the  match 
— the  young  man  is  a  pauper,  and  possesses  no  rank  to 
entitle  him. 

Lit.  My  lord  ! 

Tom.  Not  quite  a  pauper  either — my  loid,  since  he 
possesses  nigh  two  thousand  pounds  a-year — and  is,  and 
ever  will  be,  my  only  heir  to  twice  as  much  again. 

[Shouts  without,  l. 

Enter  Bob,  l. 

Bob.  They’re  waiting  to  chair  the  member. 

Lord  P.  Lord  Charles — make  haste  ! 

Bob.  Not  at  all.  [Loud  shouts  outside — “  Hurrah  for 
Cohe  !  Cohe  /” 

Bob.  Do  you  hear  ? 

Lord  P.  Impossible  1  what’s  the  state  of  the  poll  ? 

But  Here  it  is,  at  the  close.  Coke,  21S,  Roebuck,  2. 


ScEHE  l.J 


AND  YOUNG  HEARTS. 


73 


Lord  P.  I’ve  been — [ Aside ,]  stop,  I  may  gain  over  the 
new  member. — [ Aloud.}  Mr.  Coke,  my  hasty  expression — 
Roe .  How’s  tliis,  not  married  yet  1 
Lord  P.  Ha  !  Can  it  be  possible  ?  then  I  may  save  him 
yet.  Colonel,  things  have  assumed  an  aspect,  which — 

Enter  Lady  Pompion  from  house . 

Lady  P.  What  is  all  this  ? 

Bob .  [Aside  to  Roebuck.]  All  light,  my  lord;  [Crosses 
to  the  Early}  see,  settle  the  Earl. — \Aloud.}  If  your  lord- 
ship  will  allow  me  to  explain  our  interview  last  evening 
to  the  countess. 

Lord  P.  Not  a  word. 

Bob.  The  boy,  Robert— 

Lord  P.  I  beseech — my  dear  children,  may  heaven 
bless  your  felicitous  union.  ■* 

Rur .  May  I  unite  ’em,  may  1 1  come  here,  [Calls  La¬ 
dy  Alice  it.,  and  Miss  Rocket ,  l.,  takes  them  under  his 
artnSy J  bless  your  young  faces,  your  smiles  fall  like  sun¬ 
shine  on  my  old  heart ;  this  is  a  delicious  moment ! — 
[  Turns  round,  thereby  bringing  Miss  Rocket  to  n.,  and  La¬ 
dy  Alice  l.,  pushes  them  towards  their  wrong  lovers  ;  then 
he  turns  to  the  audience .]  There  !  bless  you  !  may  heaven 
shower  its  blessings  on  you,  as  it  now  does  on  me.  [ Roe¬ 
buck  and  Littleton  Coke  exchange  Miss  Rocket  and  Lady 
Alice  behind  RuraVs  back.\  Here’s  a  feast  of  joy  !  look  at 
this  happiness  !  [  Turns  round  to  Roebuck ,  l.,  sees  him  em¬ 
bracing  Miss  Rocket.\  Hollo !  bless  me !  [  Turns  round , 
R.,  and  sees  Littleton  Coke  embracing  Lady  Alice.}  Good 
gracious  me  !  ha !  what,  have  I  mistaken  ? — and — you — 
ah !  I  see — old  heads  and  young  hearts  !  well,  no  matter 
— bless  you  that  way.  [  To  audience .]  I  see  many  young 
hearts  before  me,  I  hope  you’re  all  in  love — I  do — and 
that  I  could  unite  you  all.  Well,  I  bequeath  you  to  the 
conduct  of  the  old  heads ;  and  to  them  I  would  say,  did 
you  ever  see  a  little  child  leading  an  old  blind  man  ? — 
how  can  age  best  repay  such  a  charity  I  why,  by  guiding 
the  blindness  of  youth,  which  is  love :  this  is  the  last  debt 
due  from  an  old  head  to  a  young  heart. 

DISPOSITION  OF  THE  CHARACTERS  AT  THE  FALL  OF 

THE  CURTAIN. 

Tom,  Ladt  P»  Lord  P.  Lit.  Ladt  A.  Bubal.  Katz.  P^e. 
[a.  l.i 


THE  END. 


,u  ••  '■* 


' 


r  .  :■*  V  -  i 


•: 


< 

. 

. 

'  ' 

* 

■  . 

* 

.  X.  - 

<1,  ‘  T  j ' 

* 


-  * 


■ 


■ 


. 


. 


\  • 


•  91 

-  % 

. 


- 


Why  is  It 

THAT  people  will  neglect  to  provide  themselves  with  such  simple  preven¬ 
tives  as  Dame  Nature  has  placed  at  their  disposal,  until  they  are  prostrated 
flat  on  their  backs  by  fevers,  and  forced  to  take  “  peroic  doses”  of  powerful 
minerals,  and  pay  the  enormous  bills  of  doctors,  when  a  reasonable  supply  of 

Plantation  Bitters, 

taken  according  to  directions,  three  times  a  day,  will  prevent  each  and  all  of 
the  bilious  diseases  liable  to  attack  the  system  during  the  changes  which  take 
place  at  the  breaking  up  of  winter  and  the  inauguration  of  Spring  and  Sum¬ 
mer  heats. 

The  world  is  undoubtedly  physiced  to  death.  The  best  physicians  give  the 
least  physic — and  all  sensible  doctors  will  readily  agree  that  the  best  way  to 
baffle  the  effects,  is  to  anticipate  their  insidious  attacks,  and  with  an  ounce  of 
preventive  we  save  often  more  than  a  pound  of  cure.  Between  the  retreat  of 
cold  weather  and  the  advance  of  warm  or  cold,  the  whole  human  system 
undergoes  a  change — no  greater  is  the  metamorphosis  in  the  physical  world 
than  it  is  in  the  human.  Now,  the  most  important  mission  of  the  medical  pro¬ 
fession  is  to  prevent  sickness,  and  not  to  cure  it.  Remedial  agents  would  never 
be  needed,  provided  timely  antidotes  were  used  to  avert  diseases. 

Vegetable  medicines  have  long  been  regarded  as  superior  to  mineral.  The 

Plantation  Bitters 

are  composed  wholly  of  those  well-known  vegetable  ingredients  which  long  ages 
of  science  and  experience,  (which  is  the  best  teacher  after  all,}  have  recognized 
as  the  best  stomach  regulators  and  aj)petizers  in  the  known  world.  As  a  pro¬ 
tective  medicine,  for  male  and  female,  old  and  young,  these  Bitters  stand 
alone  without  a  rival  in  the  known  world.  To  enable  the  system  to  resist  the 
ill  effects  of  exposure  to  a  change  of  climate,  and  as  a  vitalizing  and  strength- 
renewing  and  imparting  agent,  the  medical  fraternity  have  recommended  Plan¬ 
tation  Bitters  to  their  patients,  as  the  best  Tonic  and  Alterative,  now  offered 
to  an  appreciative  public. 

At  one  era  in  the  medical  world,  practitioners  resorted  almost  exclusively  to 
powerful  mineral  poisons,  and  to  blistering,  bleeding,  salivation,  violent  emetics 
or  purgation,  or  to  stupifying  narcotics,  to  relieve  their  patients.  But  we  are 
happy  to  chronicle  the  demise  of  all  these  barbarous  practices.  ’Tis  no  longer 
necessary  to  “  throw  the  patient  in  fits”  in  order  to  cure  him.  The  wonderful 
Calisaya  Bark,  united  with  the  other  properties  of  the 

Plantation  Bitters, 

if  taken  in  time,  and  according  to  printed  directions,  will  not  only  do  away  with 
the  lancet,  cantharides  plaster,  calomel,  and  the  whole  catalogue  of  drugs 
which  puts  money  into  the  pockets  of  the  apothecaries  and  doctors,  but  puts 
the  sufferer  into  the  hands  of  the  undertaker — we  say  the  Bitters  will  not  only 
do  away  with  these  evil  practices  and  save  innumerable  good  people  from  filling 
premature  graves,  but  they  will  impart  a  vital  energy  to  those  who  use  them 
which,  with  restored  health,  imparts  new  tone  and  beauty  to  the  skin  ;  lustre  to 
the  eye,  and  elasticity  to  the  step. 


% 


Nervous  Headache,  Liver  Complaint,  &c.,  &c. 

THE  brain,  being  the  most  delicate  and  sensitive  of  all  onr  organs,  is 
necessarily  more  or  less  affected  by  all  bodily  ailments.  A  head¬ 
ache  is  often  the  first  symptom  of  a  serious  disease.  If  the  nervous 
system  is  affected,  there  is  always  trouble  at  its  source  in  the  pericra¬ 
nium.  And  it  may  here  be  remarked  that  as  the  nervous  fibre  pervades 
the  entire  frame,  no  part  of  physical  structure  can  be  affected  without 
the  nerves  suffering  sympathetically.  Liver  complaint  of  every  type 
affects  the  brain.  Sometimes  the  effect  is  stupor,  confusion  of  ideas, 
hypochondriasis  ;  sometimes  persistent  or  periodical  headache.  In  any 
case,  the  best  remedy  that  can  be  taken  is  Plantation  Bitters.  In  head¬ 
ache  proceeding  from  indigestion  or  biliousness,  or  both,  the  stomachic 
and  anti-bilious  properties  of  the  preparation  will  soon  relieve  the  tor¬ 
ture,  by  removing  its  cause.  If  the  complaint  is  purely  nervous — in 
other  words,  if  it  has  originated  in  the  nervous  system,  and  is  not  the 
result  of  sympathy,  the  Bitters  will  be  equally  efficacious.  *  Eor  of  all 
remedies,  this  rare  combination  of  vegetable  tonics,  is  the  most  reliable. 
Ladies  who  are  subject  to  headache  in  consequence  of  functional  de¬ 
rangements  of  a  special  nature,  will  find  the  Bitters  a  specific  for  the 
agony  they  endure.  They  require  an  alterative  and  regulating  medicine 
to  do  away  with  the  cause  of  pain,  a  tonic  to  invigorate  the  nervous 
system ;  and  Plantation  Bitters  being  at  once  an  alterative,  regulator 
and  tonic,  is  exactly  the  preparation  they  need. 


Plantation  Bitters  as  an  Appetizer. 

WANT  of  appetite  is  a  sure  sign  that  the  stomach  i3  out  of  order. 

All  persons  in  perfect  health  relish  their  food,  and  it  may  be 
regarded  as  a  rule  to  which  there  are  no  exceptions,  that  individuals 
who  are  never  hungry  cannot  be  entirely  well.  To  eat  without  enjoy¬ 
ment,  is  a  penance,  and  sustenance  taken  into  the  stomach  against  the 
inclination,  does  not  nourish  the  system  as  it  ought  to  do.  The  best 
known  remedy  for  a  distaste  or  disinclination  for  food,  is  Plantation 
Bitters.  A  wine-glassful  taken  half  an  hour  before  breakfast,  dinner,  or 
supper,  quickens  the  flow  of  the  gastric  juice,  and  thereby  provokes 
hunger — tor  the  palate  sympathizes  with  the  stomach.  Nor  can  the  ap¬ 
petite  thus  created  be  called  a  false  appetite,  for  it  is  the  legitimate 
consequence  of  a  new  energy  imparted  to  the  digestive  organs  by  this 
wholesale  medicated  stimulant.  Raw  spirits  are  often  taken  to  provoke 
an  appetite,  and  sometimes  produce  that  effect.  But  the  remedy  in 
this  case  is  worse  than  the  complaint,  for  the  fiery  and  untempered 
alcohol  irritates  and  inflames  the  coat  of  the  stomach,  and  the  reaction 
that  subsequently  takes  place  weakens  the  digestion  and  aggravates 
what  was,  in  the  beginning,  merely  a  disinclination  to  eat,  into  aTositive 
loathing  for  even  the  simplest  aliment.  It  is  because  the  Bitters  per¬ 
manently  tone  and  brace  the  organs  which  assimilate  the  food,  that  the 
dormant  appetite  is  quickened  by  their  use. 


Plantation  Bitters 

ARE  the  very  elixir  of  fife ;  mild  and  agreeable  to  the  taste,  and  gently 
stimulating  in  their  action  upon  all  the  vital  organs  of  the  human 
system.  Sold  by  all  Druggists  of  reputation,  throughout  the  civilized 
world. 


jg^SEND  FOR 

■■■■BOH 


A  NEW  DESCRIPTIVE  CATALOGUE. 


VOL.  XLI. 

321  The  Pirate's  Legacy 

322  The  Charcoal  Burner 
3.3  Adelgitha 

324  Senor  Valiente 

325  Forest  Rose 

326  Duke's  Daughter 
I  327  Camilla’s  Husband 

328  Pure  Gold 


( Catalogue  continued  from  second  page  of  cover.) 


VOL.  XLII. 

329  Ticket  of  Leave  Sian 

330  Fool’s  Revenge 

331  O’Neil  the  Great 

332  Handy  Andy 

333  Pirate  of  the  Isles 

334  Fanchon 

335  Little  Barefoot 

336  Wild  Irish  Girl 


VOL.  XLIII. 

337  Pearl  of  Savoy 

83S  Dead  Heart 

33!)  Ten  Nights  in  a  Bar-room 

340  Dumb  Boy  of  Manchester 

341  Belphegor  the  Mountebank 

342  Cricket  on  the  Heanh 

343  Printer’s  Devil 

344  Meg's  Diversion 


VOL.  XLIV. 

345  Drunkard's  Doom 

346  Chimney  Corner 

347  Fifteen  Years  of  a  Drunk- 

348  No  Thoroughfare  Tard’s 

349  Peep  O’ Day  I  Life 

350  Everybody's  Friend 
Hamlet,  in  Three  Acts 
Guttle  &  Gulpit 


Cts. 

\  THE  GREAT  SECRET  OF  SHADOW 
PANTOMIMES  :  or.  Harlequin  in  the  Shades. 
How  to  get  them  up  and  how  to  act  them.  With 
full  and  concise  instruction's,  and  numerous  Illus¬ 
trations.  By  Tony  Denier.  Price . 25 

j  PARLOR  TABLEAUX;  or,  Animated  Pic¬ 
tures,  for  the  use  of  Families,  Schools,  and  Public 
Exhibitions.  By  Tony  Denier.  Price .  .  .25 

I  AMATEUR’S  GUIDE  TO  HOME  THE¬ 
ATRICALS.  How  to  get  them  up,  and  how  to 
act  in  them;  to  which  is  added,  “Howto  get  up 
Theatricals  in  a  Country  House,”  with  By-Laws, 
selected  Scenes.  Plays,  and  everything  useful  for 
the  information  of  amateur  societies.  Price _  25 

I  THE  GUIDE  TO  THE  STAGE,  by  Leman 
Thomas  Rede.  Containing  clear  and  full  direc¬ 
tions  for  obtaining  'theatrical  Engagements,  with 
complete  and  valuable  instructions  for  beginners 
relative  to  salaries,  rules,  manner  of  going  through 
Rehearsals,  securing  proper  Dresses,  conduct  at  a 
first  appearance,  &c.,  &c.  Price . 15 

THE  ART  OF  ACTING;  or,  Guide  to  the 
Stage.  In  which  the  Dramatic  Passions  are  de¬ 
fined,  analyzed,  and  made  easy  of  acquirement ; 
also  the  requisites  necessary  for  performers  of  both 
sexes,  heroes,  gentlemen,  lovers,  tradesmen, 
clowns,  heroines,  fine  ladies,  hoydens,  characters 
of  middle  and  old  age,  etc.  Price . 15 


Cts. 

MASSEY’S  EXHIBITION  RECITER 
AND  DRAWING-ROOM  ENTER¬ 
TAINMENTS.  Being  choice  Recitations  in 
prose  and  verse.  Together  with  an  unique  collec¬ 
tion  of  Petite  Comedies,  Dramas  and  Farces, 
adapted  for  the  use  of  Schools  and  Families.  Two 

numbers . per  number;  30 

The  two  numbers,  bound  in  cloth,  School  style. ...  75 

THE  OLIO;  or  Speaker's  Companion.  A  col¬ 
lection  of  Recitations  in  Prose  and  Verse,  Dia¬ 
logues  and  Burlesques,  compiled -for  the  use  of 
Schools,  Thespian  Societies,  etc.,  and  for  Public 
Declamation  or  Reading.  In  three  parts. .  .each,  15 

DRAMAS  FOR  THE  DRAWING¬ 
ROOM.  By  Miss  Keating.  Two  parts,  each,  40 

PLAYS  FOR  THE  PARLOR.  By  Miss 
Keating.  Two  parts . each,  40 

ACTING  CHARADES.  By  Miss  Picker¬ 
ing . 40 

COMIC  DRAMAS,  for  College,  Camp,  or  Cabin 
(Male  Characters  only  ,  four  parts . each,  40 

DRAMAS  FOR  BOYS  (Male  Characters  only), 
by  Miss  Keating . 40 

HOME  PLAYS  FOR  LADIES  (Female 
Characters  only),  complete  in  three  parts.. .  .each,  40 

AN  EVENING’S  ENTERTAINMENT, 

an  original  Comedy,  a  Burlesque  and  Farce . 40 


THE 


ro. 

Blinks  and  Jinks 
Lucky  Number 
Somebody  s  Coat 
Trip  to  Paris 
Arrival  of  Dickens 
Black  Ole  Bull 
B1  ackest  Tragedy  of  All 


ETHIOPIAN  DRAMA. 

(NEW  SERIES.) 


NO. 

8  Tom  and  Jerry,  and  Who’s 

been  Here 

9  No  Tator.  orMan  Fish 

10  Who  Stole  the  Chickens 

11  Upper  Ten  Thousand 

12  Rip  Van  Winkle 


no. 

13  Ten  Days  in  the  Tombs 

14  Two  Pompeys 

15  Running  the  Blockade 

16  Jeemes  the  Poet 

17  Intelligence  Office 
‘8  Echo  Band 


NO. 

19  Deserters 

20  Deaf  as  a  Post 

21  Dead  Alive 

22  Cousin  Joe  s  Visit 

23  Boarding  School 

24  Academy  of  Stars 


ro. 

1  Robert  Make-Airs 

2  Box  and  Cox 

3  Mazeppa 

4  Uni  ted  States  Mail 

5  The  Coopers 

3  Old  Dad  s  Cabin 
7  The  Rival  Lovers 

3  The  Sham  Doctor 
J  Jolly  Millers 

)  Villikins  and  his  Dinah 
L  The  Quack  Doctor 

2  The  Mystic  Spell 
1  The  Black  Statue 

4  Uncle  Jeff 

3  The  Mischievous  Nigger 
3  The  Black  Shoemaker 


N  (V. 

17  The  Magic  Penny 

18  The  Wreck  |  ny  Cupids 

19  Oh  Hush!  or  The  Virgin- 

20  The  Portrait  Painter 

21  The  Hop  of  Fashion 

22  Bone  Squash 

23  The  Virginia  Mummy 

24  Thieves  at  the  Mill 

25  Comedy  of  Errors 

26  Les  Miserables 

27  New  Year’s  Calls 

28  Troublesome  Servant 

29  Great  Arrival 

30  Rooms  to  Let 

31  Black  Crook  Burlesque 

32  Ticket  Taker 


NO. 

33  Hypochondriac 

34  William  Tell 

35  Rose  Dale 

36  Feast 

37  Fenian  Spy 

38  Jack’s  the  Lad 

39  Othello 

40  Camille 

41  Nobody’s  Son 

42  Sports  on  a  Lark 

43  Actor  and  Singer 

44  Shylock 

45  Quarrelsome  Servants 

46  Haunted  House 

47  No  Cure,  No  Pay 


NO. 

48  Fighting  for  the  Union 

49  Hamlet  the  Dainty 

50  Corsican  Twins 

51  Deaf  —  in  a  Horn 

52  Challenge  Dance 

53  De  Trouble  begins  atNine 

54  Scenes  at  Gurney' 8 

55  16,000  Years  Ago 

56  Stage-  struck  Darkey 

57  Black  Mail  | Clothes 

58  Highest  Price  for  Old 

59  Howls  from  the  Owl  Train 

60  Old  Hunks 

61  The  Three  Black  Smiths 

62  Turkeys  in  Season 


Tony  Denier’s  Parlor  Pantomimes— In  Ten  Parts,  25  Cts.  each. 


lo.  I. — A  Memoir  of  the  Author.  By  Sylvester 
Bleeker,  Esq.  How  to  Express  the  Various 
Passions,  Actions,  etc.  The  Four  Lovers  ;  or, 
Les  Rivales’  Rendezvous.  The  Frisky  Cobbler  ; 
or,  The  Rival  Artisans. 

To.  II. — The  Rise  and  Progress  of  Pantomime. 
The  Schoolmaster  ;  or  the  School  in  an  Uproar. 
Belle  of  Madrid;  or,  a  Muleteer’s  Bride.  La 
Statue  Blanche  ;  or,  The  Lovers'  Stratagem. 

To.  III.— M.  Dechalumeau  ;  or,  The  Birthday 
Fete.  The  Demon  Lover  ;  or,  The  Frightened 
Family.  Robert  Macaire  ;  or,  Les  Deux  Fugitifs. 

To.  IV.— Jocko  the  Brazilian  Ape;  or,  The 
Mischievous  Monkey.  The  Conscript  ;  or,  How  to 
Avoid  the  Draft.  The  Magic  Flute  ;  or,  The  Ma¬ 
gician’s  Spell. 


No.  V.— The  Vivandiere  ;  or,  The  Daughter  of  the 
Regiment.  Dame  Trot  and  her  Comical  Cat; 
or,  The  Misfortunes  of  Johnny  Greene. 

No.  VI.— Godenski  ;  or,  The  Skaters  of  Wilnan. 
The  Enchanted  Horn  ;  or,  The  Witches’  Gift. 

No.  VII.— The  Soldier  FOR  Love  ;  or,  A  Hero  in 
Spite  of  Himself.  Simeon’s  Mishaps;  or,  The 
Hungarian  Rendezvous. 

No.  VIII.— The  Village  Ghost;  or,  Love  and 
Murder  both  Found  Out.  The  Fairies’  Frolic; 
or,  The  Good  Wife  s  Three  Wishes. 

No.  IX.— The  Rose  of  Sharon  ;  or,  The  Unlucky 
Fisherman.  Povgo.  the  Intelligent  Aph,  and 
the  Unfortunate  Overseer. 


No.  X.— Mons.  Toupet,  the  Dancing  Barber  ; 
or,  Love  and  Lather.  Vol  au  Vent  and  the 
Millers  ;  or,  A  Night’s  Adventures. 


Samuel  French,  Publisher, 

ny  of  the  above  sent  by  Mail  or  Express,  on  receipt  of  price.  122  Nassau  Street  (Up  STAIRS). 


New  and  explicit  Descriptive  Catalogue  Mailed  F^e  on  request. 


FRENCH’S  MINOR  DRAMA 


yoL.  i. 

1  The  Irish  Attorney 

2  Boots  at  the  Swan 

3  How  to  pay  the  Rent 

4  The  Loan  of  a  Lover 

5  The  Dead  Shot 

6  His  Last  Legs 

7  The  Invisible  Prince 

8  The  Golden  Parmer 

„  VOL.  II. 

9  Pride  of  the  Market 

10  Used  Up 

1 1  The  Irish  Tutor 

12  The  Barrack  Room 

13  Luke  the  Laborer 

14  Beauty  and  the  Beast 

15  St.  Patrick’s  Eve 

16  Captain  of  the  Watch 

VOL.  III. 

17  The  Secret  Tpers 

18  White  Horse  of  the  PeD- 

19  The  Jacobite 

20  The  Bottle 

21  Box  and  Cox 

22  Bamboozling 

23  Widow  s  Victim 

24  Robert  Macaire 

VOL,  IV. 

25  Secret  Service 

26  Omnibus 

27  Irish  Lion 

28  Maid  of  Croisgy 

29  The  Old  Guard 

30  Raising  the  Wind 

31  Slasher  and  Crasher 

32  Naval  Engagements 

VOL.  V. 

33  Cocknies  in  California 

34  Who  Speaks  First 

35  Bombastes  Purioso 

36  Macbeth  Travestie 

37  Irish  Ambassador 

38  Delicate  Ground 

39  The  Weathercock  [Gold 

40  AH  that  Glitters  is  Not 

.  VOL.  VI. 

41  Grimshaw,  Bagshaw  and 

Bradshaw 

42  Rough  Diamond 

43  Bloomer  Costume 

44  Two  Bonnycastles 

45  Born  to  Good  Luck 

46  Kiss  in  the  Dark  [jurer 

47  ’T would  Puzzle  a  Con- 

48  Kill  or  Cure 


Price  15  Cents  each.— Bound  Volumes  $1. 25. 


VOL.  VII. 

49  Box  and  Cox  Married  and 

50  St.  Cupid  [Settled 

51  Go-to-bed  Tom 

52  The  Lawyers 

53  Jack  Sheppard 

54  The  Toodles 

55  The  Mobcap 
66  Ladies  Beware 

VOL.  VIII. 

57  Morning  Call 

58  Popping  the  Question 

59  Deaf  as  a  Post 

60  New  Footman 
.61  Pleasant  Neighbor 

62  Paddy  the  Piper 

63  Brian  O’ Linn 

64  Irish  Assurance 

VOL.  IX. 

65  Temptation 

66  Paddy  Carey 

67  Two  Gregories 

68  King  Charming 

69  Po-ca-hon-tas 

70  Clockmaker's  Hat 

71  Married  Rake 

72  Love  and  Murder 

VOL.  XXXVII. 

289  All  the  World’s  a  Stage 

290  Quash,  or  Nigger  Practice 

291  Turn  Him  CTut 

292  Pretty  Girls  of  Stillberg 
29S  Angelof  the  Attic 

294  Circumstances  alter  Case* 

295  Katty  O’Sheal 
290  A  Supper  in  Dixie 


VOL.  X. 

73  Ireland  and  America 

74  Pretty  Piece  of  Business 

75  Irish  Broom-maker 

76  To  Paris  and  Back  for 
Five  Pounds 

77  That  Blessed  Baby 

78  Our  Gal 

79  Swiss  Cottage 

80  Young  Widow 

VOL.  XI. 

81  O’Flannigan  and  the  Fa- 

82  Irish  Post  fries 

83  My  Neighbor’s  Wife 
,  84  Irish  Tiger 

85  P .  P . ,  or  Man  and  Tiger 

86  To  Oblige  Benson 

87  State  Secrets 

88  Irish  Yankee 

VOL.  XII. 

89  A  Good  Fellow 

90  Cherry  and  Fair  Star 

91  Gale  Breezely 

92  Our  Jemimy 

93  Miller’s  Maid 

94  Awkward  Arrival 

95  Crossing  the  Line 

96  Conjugal  Lesson 

VOL.  XIII. 

97  My  Wife's  Mirror 

98  Life  in  New  York 

99  Middy  Ashore 
00  Crown  Prince 
01  Tv  o  Queens 
02  Thumping  Legacy 
03  Unfinished  Gentleman 

104  House  Dog 

VOL.  XIV. 

05  The  Demon  Lover 
06  Matrimony 
107  In  and  Out  of  Place 
08  I  Dine  with  My  Mother 
109  Hi-a-wa-tha 
10  Andy  Blake 

111  Love  in ’76  [ties 

112  Romance  under  Difficul 

VOL.  XV. 

113  One  Coat  for  2  Suits 

114  A  Decided  Case 

115  Daughter  [nority 

116  No;  or,  the  Glorious  Mi 

117  Coroner’s  Inquisition 

118  Love  in  Humble  Life 

119  Family  Jars 

120  Personation 

VOL.  XVI. 

121  Children  in  the  Wood 

122  Winning  a  Husband 

123  Day  after  the  Fair 

124  Make  Your  Wills 

125  Rendezvous 

126  My  Wife’s  Husband 

127  Monsieur  Tonson 

128  Illustrious  Stranger 

VOL.  XVII 

129  Mischief-Making  [Mines 

130  A  Live  Woman  in  the 

131  The  Corsair 

132  Shylock 

133  Spoiled  Child 

134  Evil  Eye 

135  Nothing  to  Nurse 

136  Wanted  a  Widow 

VOL.  XVIII. 

137  Lottery  Ticket 
133  Fortune’s  Frolic 

139  Is  he  Jealous  ? 

140  Married  Bachelor 

141  Husband  at  Sight 

142  Irishman  in  London 

143  Animal  Magnetism 

144  Highways  and  By-Waygf 

VOL.  XXXVIII. 

297  Ici  on  Parle  Francaia 

298  Who  Killed  Cock  Robin 

299  Declaration  of  Independence 

300  Head*  or  Tails 

301  Obstinate  Family 

302  My  Aunt 

303  That  Rascal  Pat 

304  Don  Paddy  de  Bazan 


145  C<,lL°bu.  ^  |2IT  0nV°f-„«XXV,n- 

147  l!e<1Uif  ®lnebcard  218  A  Family  Failing 

148  Phf  1  Ho?“e  219  Adopted  Child  8 
148  Phenomenon  in  a  Smock  220  Turned  Heads 


Frock 

149  Comedy  and  Tragedy 

150  Opposite  Neighbors 

151  Dutchman’s  Ghost 

152  Persecuted  Dutchman 

VOL.  XX. 

153  Musard  Ball 

154  Great  Tragic  Revival 

155  High  Low  Jack  &  Game 

156  A  Gentleman  from  Ire- 

157  Tom  and  Jerry  [land 

158  Village  Lawyer 

159  Captain’s  not  A-miss 

160  Amateurs  and  Actors 

VOL.  XXI. 

161  Promotion  [ua] 

162  A  Fascinating  Individ- 

163  Mrs.  Caudle 

164  Shakspeare’s  Dream 

165  Neptune’s  Defeat 

166  Lady  ©f  Bedchamber 

167  Take  Care  of  Little 

168  Irish  Widow  [  Charley 

VOL.  XXII. 

169  Yankee  Peddlar 

170  Hiram  Hireout 

171  Double-Bedded  Room 

172  The  Drama  Defended 

173  Vermont  Wool  Dealer 

174  Ebenezer  Venture  [ter 

175  Principles  from  Charac- 

176  Lady  of  the  Lake  (Travj 

VOL.  XXIII. 

177  Mad  Dogs 

178  Barney  the  Baron 
'•179  Swiss  Swains 

180  Bachelor’s  Bedroom 

181  A  Roland  for  an  Oliver 

182  More  Blunder*  than  One 

183  Dumb  Belle 

184  Limerick  Boy 

VOL.  XXIV. 

185  Nature  and  Philosophv 

86  Teddy  the  Tiler 

87  Spectre  Bridgroom 
.88  Matteo  Falcone 

89  Jenny  Lind 

90  Two  Buzzards 

91  Happy  Man 
'92  Betsy  Baker 

VOL.  XXV. 

93  No.  1  Round  the  Corner 

94  Teddy  Roe 

95  Objt  ct  of  Interest 

96  My  Fellow  Clerk 

97  Bengal  Tiger 

98  Laughing  Hyena 

99  The  Victor  Vanquished 
200  Our  Wife 

VOL.  XXVI. 

)1  My  Husband’s  Mirror 
)2  Yankee  Land. 

203  Norah  Creina 

204  Good  for  Nothing 

205  The  FirstNight 

206  The  Eton  Boy 

207  Wandering  Minstrel 

208  Wanted,  1000  Milliners 

VOL.  XXVII. 

209  Poor  Pilcoddy 

210  The  Mummy  (Glasses 


221  A  Match  in  the  Dark 

222  Advice  to  Husbands 

223  Siamese  Twins 

224  Sent  to  the  Tower 

VOL.  XXIX 

225  Somebody  Else 

226  Ladies’  Battle 

227  Art  of  Acting 

228  The  Lady  of  the  Lions 

229  The  Rights  of  Man 

230  My  Husband's  Ghost 

231  Two  Can  Play  at  tha 
Game 

232  Fighting  by  Proxy 

VOL.  XXX. 

233  Unprotected  Female 

234  Pet  of  the  Petticoats 

235  Forty  and  Fifty  I  book 

236  Who  Stole  the  Pocket- 

237  My  Son  Diana  [Bion 

238  Unwarrantable  Intru- 

239  Mr.  and  Mrs.  White 

240  A  Quiet  Family 

VOL.  XXXI. 

24?  Cool  as  Cucumber 
2*2  Sudden  Thoughts 

243  Jumbo  Jum 

244  A  Blighted  Being 
245%Little  Toddlekins 

246  A  Lover  by  Proxy  [Pail 

247  Maid  with  the  Milking 

248  Perplexing  Predicament 

VOL.  XXXII. 

249  Dr.  Dilworth 

250  Out  to  Nurse 

251  A  Lucky  Hit 

252  The  Dowager 

253  Metamora  (Burlesque? 

254  Dreams  of  Delusion 

255  The  Shaker  Lovers 

256  Ticklish  Times 

VOL.  XXXIII. 

257  20  Minutes  with  a  Tiger 

258  Miralda:  or,  the  Justice 

of  Tacon 

259  A  Soldier's  Courtship 

260  Servants  by  Legacy 

261  Dying  for  Lova 

262  Alarming  Sacrifice 

263  Valet  de  Sham 

264  Nicholas  Nickleby 

VOL.  XXXIV. 

265  The  Last  of  the  Pigtails 

266  King  Rene's  Daughter 

267  The  Grotto  Nymph 

268  A  Devilish  Good  Joke 

269  A  Twice  Told  Tale 

270  Pas  de  Fascination 

271  Revolutionary  Soldier 

272  A  Man  Without  a  Head 

VOL.  XXXV. 

273  The  Olio,  Parti 

274  The  Olio,  Part  2 

275  The  Olio,  Part  3  [ ter 

276  The  Trumpeter’s  Daugh- 

277  Seeiug  Warren 

278  Green  Mountain  Boy 

279  That  Nose 
2S0  Tom  Noddy's  Secret 

VOL.  XXXVI. 

281  Shocking  Events 


*• AV/  x  iu'iiuuij  [  umohcS,  .-Ol  uUOCKin^  KYBI 

211  Don’t  Forgetyour  Opera!  282  A  Regular  Fix 

I.ivprr  *>qq 


283  Dick  Turpin 

284  Young  Scamp 

285  Young  Actress 

286  Call  at  No.  1-7 

287  One  Touch  of  Nature. 

288  Two  B’hoys 


212  Love  in  Livery 

213  Anthony  and  Cleopatra 

214  Trying  It  On. 

215  Stage  Struck  Yankee 

216  Young  Wife  &  Old  Um 
brella 

VOL.  XXXIX. 

306  Too  Much  for  Good  Nature.  306  Cure  for  the  Fidgets. 
Anything  on  this  Cover  sent  free  by  mail,  on  receipt  of  price. 

New  and  explicit  Descriptive  List  mailed  free  on  request. 

SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Publisher,  122  Nassau  St.,  N.  Y. 


.  t-i  ■  •  -V 

- 

••  *  *  X>  v:'  '-'^v:4  tl '•> :&  -'  <*.0  *  ■ 

■ 

*..-  -  i-  --  ,*•  1  i,-rr  .  ifl**  >  ••.*■  *  •.'  ;  > 


mk 


